


Konohamaru the Casanova

by EvilFuzzy9



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cheating, Corruption, Cuckolding, Degradation, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Harems, Incest, Infidelity, Internalized Misogyny, MILFs, Multi, Seduction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilFuzzy9/pseuds/EvilFuzzy9
Summary: Konohamaru Sarutobi was a cheating bastard, or so guys would call him. To women, however, he was master. [cuckold, male dom, fem sub, corruption, seduction, milf]





	1. Prologue: The Seduction of Sakura Uchiha

He had never expected it to get so out of hand. Really, he  _hadn't_.  
  
It had just been a one off thing, at first, just a fling with a lonely woman who'd seemed in need of some loving. He wasn't a bad guy, or at least he didn't think of himself as one. He'd never meant to make it like  _this_.  
  
But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help being so fond of the fairer sex, and he couldn't help being so damn good at pleasing and teasing women. Before he knew it, they were coming to him and  _begging_  him to dominate them, and before he knew it he was seeking them out and seducing them without an ounce of shame.  
  
You might call him a bastard. That wouldn't be unfair.  
  
But your girlfriend would prefer to call him "master".  
  
  
  
  
"Hey, Sakura. You doing alright?"  
  
Konohamaru Sarutobi looked at the medic, Sakura Uchiha nee Haruno, who had just taken the barstool next to him. She was an attractive woman, and he'd always thought she had a nice ass. The quality of said ass had only grown with the years, and the rest of her body looked very nice, too. Konohamaru wasn't above admiring a good looking woman.  
  
Motherhood had been good to Sakura, a part of him thought. He spied the swell of her bust, recalling how flat she'd been compared to her peers. Now she was only level with most of them, if still less impressive than the likes of Hinata and Temari. He grinned inwardly despite himself, imagining how Sakura's bosom would look bare and uncovered.  
  
"I'm doing fine," Sakura said in answer to his question.  
  
She did not sound sincere.  
  
Konohamaru mused on the fact that Sakura's daughter was getting on into her teenage years, and that her husband had been away from the village on top secret missions for most of that time. She looked and sounded very lonely tonight, however well she held herself up most of the time.  
  
"You look fine," Konohamaru said. " _Damn_  fine," he added cheekily, winking. "But you don't sound too good. Is it anything you can talk about with me? I'd be glad to help, if I can."  
  
Sakura turned a bleary, bloodshot eye on Konohamaru. She stared at him with an odd expression for several long moments. At last, she shrugged and let out a weary, longsuffering sigh.  
  
"I'm an old hag," she opined, leaning limply over the bar. "I'm getting older every day."  
  
"You don't look a day over twenty," Konohamaru only half-lied, guessing what this was probably about. "And you're hardly that old, anyways. Only a few years older than me, and I'm still smack dab in my prime! You aren't a hag, either."  
  
"Hmph," Sakura huffed, glowering impotently at her beer. "I bet he doesn't even want me anymore. That's why he never comes home, isn't it?"  
  
"Who, Sasuke?" said Konohamaru. "He's just away on missions, isn't he?"  
  
"That's what he  _tells_  me," said Sakura surlily. "But why should I believe him? I bet he's got a dozen young sluts on the side."  
  
Konohamaru looked curiously at Sakura. He smiled softly. "If he does, then he doesn't know a damn thing. You're everything a man needs in a wife."  
  
Sakura blushed at this. "Not everything a man wants, though," she said, still seeming depressed.  
  
Konohamaru wondered what had gotten Sakura started on this. She usually seemed perfectly content with her situation—or at least plenty willing to endure it, but right now she was clearly in a very glum mood, down in the dumps to an extent he couldn't recall ever seeing her. Not since she first got married, at least.  
  
"Maybe not everything that  _some_  men want," he said. "But that doesn't go for all of us."  
  
Sakura looked at him with a very intent, very bleary eye.  
  
"Does it go for  _you?_ " she asked.  
  
Konohamaru was taken aback to feel Sakura's hand on his ass. He was just as surprised to see her imploring expression, a light of clear desperation shining from her eyes. He blinked. Then he smiled. While he could get wound up and excited in a lot of things, when it came to women, Konohamaru had always found it best to relax and go with the flow. So he put his hand to the small of Sakura's back, and he rubbed it in a slow circle.  
  
It said something about how long she'd gone without feeling a man's touch that Sakura whimpered and arched her back at once and leaned achingly, longingly into his caress. She placed her free hand to his chest, and smelling thickly of alcohol she leaned in close. Her lips pressed sloppily and somewhat clumsily to his cheek, pulling away just long enough for her to stare again into his eyes.  
  
"I think you look great," Konohamaru said honestly. "You're a babe, Sakura-san."  
  
She blushed pleasurably.  
  
"I am?"  
  
"You are," Konohamaru told her. "If you weren't married, I'd be tempted to..."  
  
He paused, trailing off.  
  
"Tempted to  _what?_ " she asked.  
  
"I shouldn't say," Konohamaru said, feeling a touch sheepish. "You  _are_  married, after all. I'm sorry. I'm making this weird, aren't I?"  
  
He pushed himself away from the bar, getting off of his stool. Sakura grabbed his shirt, though, stopping him from leaving.  
  
"No," she said. "Don't go.  _Please_."  
  
She stared dolefully, her eyes bloodshot and watery. Her cheeks were flush, and her bosom heaved within its confines. She squirmed on the stool, biting her lip.  
  
"Sakura..."  
  
"It's so lonely," she said. "Just... please, just keep me company. Just a while longer, won't you...?"  
  
Konohamaru smiled resignedly.  
  
"Okay," he said. "Sure. I can't say no to a pretty woman."  
  
He got back on the stool, and he ordered another drink. He ordered one for Sakura, too.  
  
  
  
  
They drank and talked for a long while. Very soon the alcohol had loosed their tongues, and they said things to each other that they would never have said while sober. They might as well have been the only two people in the bar, or the only two people in the world, for all the heed they gave to their surroundings. The pair of them were utterly absorbed in each other.  
  
Flush with drink, emboldened by loneliness and longing, they left the bar together. Leaning each on the other for support, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders, they made their slow and ambling way home. Not to Sakura's house, where she was alone with her daughter away on a mission, her husband gone for months at a time. To Konohamaru's apartment they went, rather.  
  
Once inside, they found themselves quickly naked. Sakura threw her clothes off, exposing herself and flinging her arms around Konohamaru. She moaned and kissed him ravenously, abandoning all discretion and restraint in her ache for man, her lust and her long unsated longing. He kissed her back, too drunk to care that she was married.  
  
Their tongues danced, curling and slavering shamelessly between their melding mouths, their bosoms mashing tightly together, one hard and the other soft. Hands roamed, searching and desperate, grasping at every hold, gripping and stroking, squeezing and kneading. They explored each other's bodies thoroughly and devotedly.  
  
"God, you're so hot," Sakura moaned, looking at Konohamaru's fairly ripped physique. She eyed his chiseled pecs, and his six pack like a thing hewn from marble, and his cock long and thick, meaty and veinous, and his balls, huge testicles that dangled within a large sack, bulging with his potent nuts. "Shit, you're like a fucking..."  
  
She arched her back, dropping onto his bed and letting her arms splay out to either side. Her breasts wobbled pertly, trembling from the fall, and a sweat of anticipation glistened finely on her rosy peach skin. A blush adorned her cheeks, but she was smiling lustily, her half-lidded eyes twinkling as in a silent invitation.  
  
Sakura spread her legs, and Konohamaru looked at her pussy. He saw her pink bush, adult and unshaven, adorning a plump and juicy cunt well worth the trouble of bringing this woman hither. His manhood stirred at the sight of her nakedness, and his eyes feasted unabashedly on her body. She was a delight to behold.  
  
"I could say the same for you," he said, looking at her with longing. "Damn. Sasuke doesn't know what he's missing. If I were him, I'd never leave the village. Not if I had a wife this sexy waiting for me at home."  
  
"You flatterer," Sakura purred, batting her eyelashes. She coyly ran hands down her body, tracing her modest curves. You would hardly have guessed her to be the mother of a teenage girl. "What about Hanabi-chan?"  
  
"Our relationship isn't like that," Konohamaru said. "It's just sex. Nothing special."  
  
"No? But she seems so devoted to you, even if you aren't married or dating," said Sakura wryly.  
  
Konohamaru smirked. "She says I'm  _very_  good in the sack."  
  
Sakura grinned and eyed his balls.  
  
"I can believe that," she quipped. "But come, you sexy bastard. If I'm going to cheat on my absentee ass of a husband, I might as well make it worth the trouble. Get down here and give me that cock Hanabi raves about."  
  
Konohamaru grinned, and he got onto the bed, mounting Sakura where she lay. He lined up their hips, and he caressed her bosom. His cockhead brushed between her labia, and Sakura hissed at the merest touch of it. His manhood felt hot against her sex, and it was perfectly rigid, hard as adamant.  
  
"She  _raves_  about it, does she?" he said. "Not very discreet of her."  
  
"Oh, she's very discreet," Sakura breathed, panting as Konohamaru grasped her breasts, fondling them with sublime skill, kneading the plump and pliable tissues of her bosom. "She only talks about it among us girls. But I can tell why."  
  
She moaned, Konohamaru bowing his head and nibbling one of her ears, stroking her thigh. His hands were skilled and his fingers nimble, and he seemed well informed on all the pleasures and weaknesses of a female body. Sakura felt herself melt at his touch. Even drunk as they were, she felt with a clarity that would imprint itself deep into her memory the pleasure his slightest touch stirred, and his lips lit a fire within her belly.  
  
He ravished her. There was no other word for it. He was a masterful lover, just tender enough to make her heart flutter, just rough enough to make her thrill, doing just right at every point, not missing a single beat or failing in any measure to match and fulfill her long unsated desires. He wasn't even thrusting into her, yet, and already she felt near to the brink, almost ready to come just from this foreplay.  
  
Was it a lack of stamina from long time without the touch of her husband, a built up frustration that made her significantly more susceptible to these forbidden pleasures? Or was it simply Konohamaru's sheer skill, the raw potency of his manhood that drove her mad with ecstasy? She could not say. All she knew was that she wanted him more with every passing second.  
  
Sasuke? Who cared about him? If he wanted her as his wife, then he ought to heed her and care for her as a woman, and not just a dependent. She wanted more as a human being than to simply receive a (generous, admittedly) stipend from her husband's pay. She wanted companionship, she wanted emotional support, she wanted  _cock_.  
  
And Konohamaru had given her more of these things in the course of a single evening than her husband had for many a year. Sakura could hardly restrain herself.  
  
"Yes... oh, yes! Konohamaru, you're wonderful!" she cried out, hardly bothering to keep her voice low. "Fuck! FUCK! Oh, FUCK! Stick it inside me...! I need your cock! God, I can't stand it... Stop teasing me! Just fuck me, already!"  
  
Konohamaru smiled. He bent his head and kissed her again on the lips. It was a passionate kiss, a hungry and dominating kiss that laid low all the pride of her womanhood, reducing her to a meek and mewling thing.  
  
He was a man. She was a woman. He had a cock, and she a cunt.  
  
They were naked. They were together.  
  
They were  _fucking_.  
  
Konohamaru drove himself into Sakura. His cock filled her up easily, and his hardness lit a blaze of ecstasy within her. She thrashed for joy as he reamed her pussy, stretching the inner walls of her sex nearly beyond all recognition with his marvelous girth, his ungodly length. His cock felt even bigger than it looked, and her mind went splendidly blank as he bottomed out inside her.  
  
He fucked her raw. She could find no words to describe it, not in her drunk and lustful haze. Even were she sober and removed and in perfect mental clarity, no exertion of her language and vocabulary could suffice to capture the wildness of it, the barbarity of his masculine sex, the way he ravaged and plundered her, the way he touched her and kissed her and whispered such sweet nothings.  
  
He paid her compliment with his every breath, and with those same breaths he called her a slut, a faithless whore, a cheating cunt who betrayed her husband's trust. He blamed her for making him do this, for tempting and enticing him to fuck her, to pound her pussy and slap her ass, to kiss her and grope her tits, to use and abuse her, to please and tease her. He was fucking her because she'd begged for it.  
  
This was all on her. She was a cuckold, a harlot, a shameless woman who cared nothing for husband or marriage. Better she were a whore in the gutter turning tricks to earn her salt. Then at least she would be honest to her nature, more true and respectable than what she proved here and now: unfaithful slattern, sexy bitch, with a fine ass and decent tits and cunt that begged to be fucked.  
  
She moaned in agreement with all this speech, and she debased herself under him, writhing and moaning blissfully. She knew at last why Hanabi spoke so adoringly of Konohamaru, she acting so demure and slavish who was otherwise a determined and vivacious Hyuuga clanswoman. This was a  _man_ , a real man, the kind to whom a woman would naturally submit, a lover and a master that any girl with sense would kill to have.  
  
"Konohamaru...!" Sakura cried. "Master, yes! Oh, you're so good! I love you! You're nothing like my husband... Yes! Fuck me HARDER!❤"  
  
Her ass slapped the futon, making the floor creak and groan beneath them. His cock squelched in her pussy, stirring the juices of her womanhood and making her flesh quiver and clap. Their pelvises smote loudly and rapidly, their lips mashing and smacking, their tongues twisting and rolling. Her tits leaped and wobbled with the convulsions of her frame, goodly globes of pale flesh red from arousal and worthy use at his hands.  
  
Her body opened itself up to him, and she accepted him utterly. He filled her, he stretched her out, his manhood kissing her womb. She writhed and roiled about him, feeling so soft and submissive in his hands. He mastered her with his touch, his kiss, his every word. He was her master more than her lover. She was his plaything more than his mistress. She was but an amusement to him, or so it felt in the magnitudes of their sex, his prowess and firmness and fire seeming to dwarf her in every way.  
  
She felt weak, so wonderfully weak, so safe and secure in his arms. It was heavenly, to be fucked by him, to be plowed by his cock and groped by his hands and lavished with hundreds of rough, hungry kisses. He was hard and unyielding while she was soft and malleable. He molded her as he wished, playing her like a fiddle, making her whine and croon as his rod ground within her slot. Her churned her insides and made her come.  
  
"You're hopeless," he told her. "You're a dirty slut, aren't you? You cheating bitch. But I don't mind. I can at least have my fun with you, while I give you what you begged for."  
  
"Thank you!" Sakura gasped. "Oh, YES! THANK YOU! KONOHAMARU! MASTER! SHIT! FUCK ME! YESSSS!❤"  
  
She came in a torrent, and her loins constricted. She squeezed his cock in a vicegrip, and at last he grunted, feeling the pressure in his dick reach its limit, before his shaft pulsed and twitched, his cock spasming and unleashing a torrent of sperm.  
  
Konohamaru came inside of Sakura. It was a generous ejaculation, his orgasm filling her nearly to the brim. She slumped contentedly beneath him, feeling really satisfied for the first time in far,  _far_  too long.  
  
"I love you," Sakura moaned blearily, looking slavishly up at Konohamaru. "Marry me, please❤"  
  
Konohamaru grinned.  
  
"Why would I want a filthy wife like you?" he asked. "You're just a slut sleeping with strangers while her husband's away."  
  
Sakura squirmed, blushing pleasurably at the shame stirred by his words.  
  
"Only with you," she said. "Only for you have I cheated. I love you."  
  
"You love getting fucked by me," Konohamaru said. "You love my cock. But you don't love me. Not the way a wife should, at least."  
  
Sakura pouted.  
  
"Konohamaru... Konohamaru-sama," she sighed. "I wish I could give you more. I wish my body was younger and sexier, my breasts bigger and my ass tighter. Maybe then you'd want me as a wife."  
  
"Maybe," Konohamaru laughed. "But it's your attitude that ruins you, not your body."  
  
"You flatter me," Sakura said. " _Thank you_."  
  
She closed her eyes, then, and fell asleep beneath him.  
  
Satisfied, and seeing nothing else to do, Konohamaru rolled over and slept as well.  
  
He had enjoyed this more than he ought have. The last thought on his mind, as he drifted off to dreamland, was to wonder whom else he might seduce and conquer. It was a shallow thing, but it made him feel so powerful.  
  
And it proved fun as hell to fuck a married woman.


	2. Ino's Foolhardy Endeavor

Konohamaru smiled at Sakura when he passed her on the street. She smiled in turn and leaned in to whisper a greeting only he could hear. Covertly he reached out and grabbed her ass, causing her to smile.  
  
Most didn't notice this exchange. Most people were too absorbed in their own business to intrude or give heed to the private doings of two such renowned shinobi. But one person did see it—one person happened to espy the look of pleasure on Sakura's face, and glimpsed the way Konohamaru gripped and kneaded the pinkette's buttocks.  
  
Ino Yamanaka wondered at how shamelessly Konohamaru molested her friend, but more still did she wonder at how Sakura seemed not only to tolerate the actions, but even to welcome and  _relish_  them.  
  
Perturbed and perplexed, Ino decided to approach Sakura after Konohamaru had left.  
  
"Hey. What the hell was that about, Sakura?" she spoke lowly so as to not draw unwanted attention, walking up and addressing her friend with a look of feigned unconcern. "What was that idiot Konohamaru doing grabbing your ass?"  
  
Sakura's response to this rather rude question was not at all what Ino would have expected. She might have thought to see her friend get angry and defensive, to close up and push her away, or to respond hotly and aggressively. She might also have expected Sakura to look sad or ashamed, guilty or melancholic. What she did not look for, and yet what she wound up getting, was a pleasant, self-satisfied smile.  
  
"I'm not sure what you mean," said Sakura. "That is, what he was doing? Obviously just as you saw and said. He was grabbing my ass."  
  
Ino stared at Sakura, utterly taken aback. She knew her friend very well, and she knew the full variety of Sakura's moods and disposition. Yet never had she seen her friend in quite this light, not even as a giddy newlywed bragging about her honeymoon with Sasuke-kun. There was a matter-of-factness to Sakura's words, and something else about her demeanor, that put Ino completely out of her reckoning.  
  
She shook her head, taking Sakura's hand and tugging her along. They walked down the street, Sakura following amiably, Ino feeling downright thunderous, a growing frustration and incredulity that swelled in her bosom with each step. As they walked she looked askance at Sakura and leaned in close to whisper, casual-seeming as if just between a couple of gossiping housewives.  
  
" _Why?_ " she demanded.  
  
"Why what?" asked Sakura innocently, far too innocently indeed for a woman of her age and experience.  
  
"Wh-Why was he  _grabbing_  you?" Ino hissed, growing increasingly flustered. Her face burned and grew ruddy in spite of all attempts at restraint. "Why did you let him fondle you in the middle of—no, at _all?_ "  
  
Sakura giggled in a way that suggested she found Ino's question to be silly, a condescending and haughty sort of laugh that a woman might give to a foolish little girl. Ino was not in the mood for this.  
  
"I'm serious, Sakura! I might be married to Sai, and I love him dearly, but if you're cheating on Sasuke with that little pervert..."  
  
"He's not  _little_ ," Sakura said, and her tone was distressingly husky, her eyes far too sensual for Ino's comfort.  
  
Frustrated, Ino dragged Sakura into an alley, and she pinned the girl to a wall out of the sight of the street.  
  
"What the hell, Sakura?" she hissed. "I'm not joking!"  
  
"Neither am I," said Sakura smoothly. "Konohamaru-sama is  _anything_  but small."  
  
"Kono—" Ino gaped at her friend. " _Sama?_  What the fuck is up with you?"  
  
She shook her head, taking a deep breath to try and steady herself.  
  
"He's my master," said Sakura dreamily. "If I were good enough, I'd make him my husband."  
  
"You're  _married_ , Sakura. To  _Sasuke_."  
  
"And he's never around," Sakura said, finally showing a hint of annoyance. Her expression hardened. "He might be the father of my child, but I don't see him as my husband. Not anymore."  
  
Ino stared at Sakura. She looked at the girl long and hard. Laying a hand on her friend's shoulder, Ino frowned and shot a pulse of her own chakra into Sakura's system, briefly scrambling the other woman's network.  
  
Sakura smiled once more, and she laughed airily.  
  
"I'm not under a genjutsu," she said. "I'm perfectly aware and sober. I'd say I'm more aware than I've ever been before, in fact. Konohamaru-sama is the man I truly love. Even if I can't be with him as a wife, he makes me so happy... I feel so good when I'm with him... oh,  _Ino_ , you sorry thing. If you knew what it was like, you would feel the same way. Sai? Sasuke? Naruto? I don't care about any of them. They can't pleasure us, they can't  _dominate_ us, not the way we need and deserve."  
  
"Sakura..." Ino said. "You're mad. What has that bastard done to you?"  
  
"Nothing," Sakura said. "He's only opened my eyes. He's led me to realize my true nature."  
  
And saying this, Sakura put a hand to the small of Ino's back.  
  
"Go to him. Let him show you. Then you'll understand. You'll be the same as me. You'll be  _free_."  
  
Ino stepped back, letting go of Sakura. She stared at her friend, at this woman she'd once thought she'd known better than anyone. Her stomach churned and twisted within her.  
  
"Sakura..."  
  
"He's magnificent, Ino. No one else can compare."  
  
"Does that make it right?" Ino said. "Even if he's the best damn lay in history, you're still  _married_."  
  
"You don't understand," Sakura said pityingly. "You can't, not really. Not unless you've been with him for yourself."  
  
"Then I'll find out," Ino said, her temper flaring up. "And I'll prove to you that it's no big deal! No matter how good he is in bed, he could never make me turn my back on Sai, and he could never make you turn your back on Sasuke."  
  
"He hasn't  _made_  me do anything," said Sakura. "He's only  _showed_   _me_ , and I've chosen for myself. The only sensible choice there could be, really."  
  
"We'll see," Ino said, shaking her head. "We'll see."  
  
  
  
  
Despite her words with Sakura, Ino hadn't been entirely determined to prove her point. Not in the way she'd implied. Really, how did one go about doing such a thing without cheating? The obvious course would be to inform her husband, but then she would have to explain why, and that would invariably mean betraying Sakura's infidelity.  
  
She wouldn't do that.  
  
But she had to do  _something_. And if it was for a good cause, maybe Sai wouldn't mind, supposing he ever even found out. Sure, he was ANBU, but she was a kunoichi herself, and she could keep her own secrets just fine. She wasn't some foolish little girl to go prancing down the street and proclaiming her intentions. She was a grown woman, subtle and cunning.  
  
Ultimately,, she decided on a comparatively direct approach. She cornered Konohamaru in a lonely place, and there confronted him.  
  
"I know you're sleeping with Sakura," she said, her posture such as to prevent any betrayal of intent.  
  
Konohamaru looked at Ino, and he cocked his head. He was taken aback, clearly, but less than he ought've been, were he a decent sort of gentleman. Or so Ino felt. But he smiled at her, after a moment, and he cast his eyes rather impolitely down her frame.  
  
It took a conscious effort to keep from telling him off, or covering herself even fully clothed as she was.  
  
"You know about us?" he said idly. He looked at their surroundings. They were in a remote corner of the training grounds, far from any frequented areas.  
  
"I do," said Ino firmly.  
  
"Are you here to rebuke me, then? To beat me up?" He sounded amused, saying this, as though he did not believe that this was, for even a second, what she really wanted.  
  
"No," Ino said, despite wanting very much to say  _yes_  and let him have it. But she had a point to prove, and she was too proud to back down. Slowly, she struck a cautiously inviting pose, gesturing with her body to suggest a mild willingness. She didn't want to seem overly enthusiastic, but she didn't want to seem too hesitant, either. For all this, she did a good job at striking the proper balance, with a kunoichi's training well-equipped to pretend such things.  
  
Konohamaru looked at her, and he understood the language of her body, the message she worked to convey without speech. But he did not make a move, not yet. Rather he smiled at her, and his eyes had a glint of cunning that slightly unnerved Ino. Despite his admiration and long apprenticeship under the Nanadaime, he was a cleverer person than Naruto, and not so heedlessly trusting.  
  
"What do you want, then?" he asked, as if he couldn't tell what she meant from her posture alone.  
  
She looked at him and knew what he meant by this. She guessed much of his thought, rightly or wrongly, adjusting her plans and estimations on the fly as best she could. Although she was a far cry from matching Shikamaru, Ino Yamanaka was no dunce herself.  
  
But then neither was Sakura Uchiha, and look what had become of  _her_.  
  
"I... I want to..." Ino said, finding it rather harder than she'd expected to get the words out. Now that it came to it, she was very reluctant to do this thing, and it seemed very puerile and nonsensical. What would she really prove by doing this? "I want to... with you, that is..."  
  
"Yeah?" he prompted, still waiting patiently.  
  
Ino swallowed, taking a deep breath and steeling herself.  
  
"I want to sleep with you, too," she said.  
  
"I'm not tired," Konohamaru replied, pretending cheekily not to understand. His grin was irksomely smug, and neither did she like how oft and long his eyes strayed from hers to roam unabashed over her body. "Or do you mean something else?"  
  
He wanted her to say it. He wanted her to spit it out and put it baldly as possible, as literally, vulgarly, and unmistakeably as language could allow. He was well short of Shikamaru's cunning, but the wit and subtlety of Konohamaru Sarutobi was proving itself to be no meager thing in its own right. It was perhaps part insurance, insisting that she make her intentions utterly clear so that there was no room for ambiguity, but in the most part it was clearly a way to make her embarrass herself, to lower herself before him and surrender much of her power in this encounter.  
  
She could not go through with this and say afterward that he misunderstood what she'd asked, nor could she maintain her poise and dignity uncompromised. It was a small thing, and yet very large. It took Ino a rather great effort to surmount her own hesitation, and she could not wholly numb the rush of humiliation when she uttered the words, loud and clear and obscene.  
  
"I want to have sex," she said. "I want to  _fuck_. I want to ride you, I want your dick in my pussy, I want to plow me and pound me and fuck me raw."  
  
Despite her misgivings, Ino felt a brief twinge of excitement, saying these things. Her blouse felt tight as her bosom heaved, and her body warmed as Konohamaru smiled steadily more widely with the progression of her words.  
  
"Is that all," he said, not a question but a sly remark. "Well, I  _suppose_  I can accommodate you. I'm surprised, though! I didn't think you were such a slut. Do you regularly go around asking strangers to fuck you?"  
  
He paused for a beat, waiting with a crooked grin.  
  
Ino blushed vibrantly, unable to suppress the warmth that blossomed in her cheeks. She gave no spoken answer.  
  
"Well, I suppose it's not my business to ask," Konohamaru finished with a shrug. "I should just focus on the task in front of me."  
  
And saying that, he reached down to his groin. He adjusted his clothes subtly, and opening his fly allowed a cock of surprising size to spring out. Even flaccid it seemed awesomely big, and Ino was gobsmacked to look at it. Her eyes widened in genuine amazement, and despite all convictions of her inner will she felt a brief and potent prickling.  
  
Konohamaru smiled at Ino, and his eyes gleamed amusedly as he watched her jaw drop by slow degrees. He put one hand to his hip and splayed the other with a flourish, in a single gesture indicating his body that was clothed still, only his shaft bare. Feet squared themselves, shoulders rolled, and Konohamaru posed seductively, invitingly.  
  
A part of Ino wished to back out, to turn away and rebuke Konohamaru in disgust. Another part, not significantly smaller, wanted for its own selfish reasons to advance this scenario and see where it would go. The former was more in line with her morals, but her purpose went along with the latter, even if the reasoning was different. Either way, she did not need to steel herself as thoroughly as before to find the courage to progress, to step toward Konohamaru and raise the front of her skirt. The garment she wore was rather longer than what she'd used to favor in her youth, but not so long as to be any particular hindrance, and her panties were adult, a very nice and sexy pair of underwear specially chosen for this task.  
  
Konohamaru's smile widened, and he nodded to Ino.  
  
"C'mere," he said, winking. "I'm waiting for you."  
  
Again he forced the decision onto her. He made her the one responsible to initiate the tryst, waited for her to approach  _him_. It was not a choice that made Ino feel powerful, but rather more low and vulnerable. Irrationally, Ino feared that he might reject her advance. She could not say whence this fear came, or why it struck her so keenly, but it gnawed at her somewhere in the unthinking unconscious, making her feel anxious and troubled. It stirred a rashness in her belly, and she moved quickly forward, almost stumbling in her haste as she held her skirt up still.  
  
She tried to swing her hips seductively, to walk with a confident and womanly stride. She was proud and would not be made to feel like some helpless, juicy dainty set before a hungry beast. Yet she felt this nonetheless, and she felt a giddiness as if she were an inexperienced little girl approaching her crush, or a young woman preparing to have sex for the first time.  
  
How was Konohamaru making her so flustered? And flustered she was, her heart beating a frantic tempo when she finally stopped before him, their bodies scarcely an inch apart. She blushed and hiked her skirt a little higher, the warmth in her face and the confusion of her thoughts leaving her quite deliciously faint.  
  
"Are you ready, Konohamaru?" she asked him.  
  
He leaned close, and she smelt his breath. It was faintly sweet and not at all unpleasant. One of his hands rose and laid itself on her breast, over her heart, where it slowly began to move in a circle over her blouse, softly but not meekly handling her tit through the fabric. A moan slipped from Ino's mouth, and her face grew hotter still. She nearly melted in spite of herself when she felt the silken hardness that brushed her inner thigh, the heat and pulsation of a thick, rigid, meaty cock.  
  
"Are  _you?_ " was Konohamaru's response, the words spoken so close that they seemed to drown out all other noise, though they were said softly and privately.  
  
"I am," said Ino breathlessly, nearly forgetting all else in a moment of singular anticipation. The promise of his hand on her bosom was very great, speaking of a skill in foreplay that Ino could scarcely have guessed, a skill that seemed likely to translate magnificently into sex proper.  
  
Inwardly she girded herself, thinking of why she was here, reminding herself not to be too easily impressed by Konohamaru. Had she not come here and chosen to do this, after all, so she might prove to Sakura and herself that Konohamaru was not so great, and that even if he was it was no excuse for infidelity? Admittedly this had seemed even at the time of her first resolution to be a foolish way to make her point, but only now did she guess that it might also be  _perilous_. Not to her life or health, perhaps, but certainly to her character. For as Konohamaru pressed his loins up and ground his cockhead against the warmly moist gate of her womanhood, Ino perceived that either her guess of his skill had far been too low, or her estimation of her own resilience much too high.  
  
A shudder raced through her when he parted her labia. A gasp tore from plump lips as he slowly, slowly inched himself inside her, spreading the walls of her sex, stretching them to accommodate his formidable manhood. Ino was plenty experienced with her husband, and no stranger to Sai's very respectable dick, but Konohamaru was on a whole other level, endowed well beyond any decency or reasonable anatomy. His cock was a  _monster_ , a splendid bijuu of a boner that seemed fit to ravage her even with very slow and gentle thrusts.  
  
Ino was a forward, self-possessed woman of confidence and resolute character. She was bold and aggressive in seeking what she wanted, and she took pride in her beauty and sexuality. But she was not shameless, nor a whore. Nor was she a nymphomaniac, being neither obsessed nor enslaved to sexual pleasure. Konohamaru's cock was such, however, that she nearly forgot everything of herself, that she came close to melting into pure  _woman_  removed utterly from all social and moral conceit.  
  
Her back arched, and her bosom heaved within her blouse. Her skirt hooded the joining of her and Konohamaru's sexes, but only a child could have mistaken what they were doing. Anyone who knew what sex was would know this to be what they were doing, and Ino felt acutely aware of this fact through the haze of unexpectedly intense pleasure, a euphoria far deeper and more potent than she had either hoped or feared. They were fucking in a forest clearing, remote maybe, but not private.  
  
Anyone might stumble upon them. Anyone might come across this clearing and perceive them, hear the moans she loosed and the grunting of his breath, the clap of their loins and their bodies. Anyone might see them in this position, her dress raised obscenely and her pelvis pressing unto Konohamaru's, their genders slapping wetly, his cock nearly squelching in the moisture and softness of her cunt. Ino realized this all with a sharp clarity, even as she grew foggy to all else save the pleasure of their sex.  
  
What would Sai say, if he found her here? All her reasons for doing this thing now seemed flimsy excuses, the thickness and the length of Konohamaru's manhood reaming her pussy and thumping her insides, filling her as nothing else before it had done. What would her husband care of Sakura's situation, of her promise to prove her friend mistaken, in the light of this shameful deed? For she was having sex with Konohamaru, cheating on her husband regardless of her reasons. And it felt too good to endure. Too wonderful too bear.  
  
She was humiliated upon the rod of this man, put to shame as a base and lustful harlot, fucked by him and made to cry aloud in her pleasure. She could not restrain her voice, or keep from writhing blissfully against him, or panting and blushing and swooning nearly as she came about his cock, gushing her juices over his loins and clenching, gripping his phallus with the walls of her sex. She milked him desperately, greedily squeezing his shaft in hope of come, in hope of drawing forth his semen. Her womb desired his seed. The vulgar instincts of mankind made her lust to be filled with his sperm, for her eggs to be bathed in the rush of his ejaculate. This was a stud of a man, her loins thought independent of heart and mind, a magnificent specimen more than worthy to inseminate and impregnate, to quicken her and leave her with child.  
  
She felt ashamed to think it, but a part of her—in an animal corner of her brain unchanged by millennia of civilization—dearly and viscerally desired to bear Konohamaru's children. The very notion thrilled her.  
  
"You're a slut," whispered Konohamaru, grinning and grunting as he continued thrusting into her.  
  
Though Ino had been stabbed many times in her career, stricken with the darts of kunai and shuriken, nothing had ever pierced her so keenly or deeply as those words, like an arrow through the heart and a blow to the head. She was slain by his comment, laid low and dishonored. It delighted her ever so shamefully. It made her melt. It made her shiver. It made her smile, embrace him, kiss him, and accept the blessing of his seed.  
  
He came inside her, and it was a rush of such relief that she could never have imagined, and she moaned shamelessly and slumped against him in utter contentment.  
  
"Maybe I am..." she murmured, looking up into his eyes. She felt giddy, and no less so when he reached around to grab her ass and squeeze it.  
  
Konohamaru's eyes glittered in amusement. "What about your husband?" he asked.  
  
"What  _about_  him?" said Ino, nuzzling her cheek against him. "He doesn't make me feel like this."  
  
This was true, Ino thought even as she said the words. She loved Sai as her husband, but Konohamaru was so much better in bed, so much more skillful and masterful a lover. Nearly she had forgotten all her intentions to disprove Sakura's claims, and with far less regret than she could have imagined beforehand, she realized that her endeavor had failed in the most absolute and irreparable way.  
  
Sakura had not overestimated the skill of this man. She had, if anything,  _undersold_  the prowess of his hands and cock and ravening lips. Poorly indeed had Sakura conveyed the sheer masculinity, the overwhelming domination of Konohamaru's body against those of womankind, a veritable paragon of male sexuality.  
  
For all her boldness and extroversion, Ino was not especially firm of will. Certainly she could not claim any great advantage over Sakura in terms of character—if anything Mrs. Uchiha was the more steadfast, the more stubborn, and the more resolute of conviction. Ino, by comparison, was a fairly ordinary woman in character, and her relative normalcy was less than no defense against the overmastering hardness of Konohamaru Sarutobi.  
  
With a sigh, she leaned into him.  
  
"Can we do it again?" she asked him, feeling life return to her pussy after the numbness of release.  
  
"Sure," said Konohamaru, grinning. "I don't mind giving a pretty bitch like you the dicking she deserves."  
  
Ino shuddered blissfully at these words, and her eyelids fluttered.  
  
" _Thank you_ ," she breathed.  
  
Without another word, he thrust again into her. With this action, Ino was wholly overthrown by his cock.  
  
It was just too addictive to resist.


	3. Naruko and Hanabi: Sisters-in-Lust

Naruko Uzumaki was the Seventh Hokage's little sister. Well, to be more precise, she was his  _half_ -sister _,_  whom his mother Kushina had had with her second husband some years after the death of the Yondaime. Naruko was Konohamaru's age, but he knew her only distantly. He'd long respected and admired her big brother, and most of his time with the Uzumaki family in his youth had been spent playing with Naruto or studying under him. It was only in manhood, and particularly in this time when he began to grow slowly more sexually ravenous, awakened to the reality of his own extraordinary skill that could let him make bitches or mistresses of some of the most beautiful women in Konoha, that Konohamaru began to turn away from Naruto and look more especially at his sister.  
  
As a kid, Naruko had been much like her brother. She was a tomboy, a troublemaker, and a bit of a dunce. She was still not at all very talented as a shinobi, and indeed she was almost entirely overshadowed by her brother in ninjutsu. She had inherited none of the Uzumaki clan's talents, and though she greatly resembled Naruto in her coloration, she did not have the blood of the Yellow Flash in her. She was thoroughly mediocre as a ninja. But as a woman, she was exceptional.  
  
Curvaceous and outgoing, she was, free of spirit and unabashed, absolutely gorgeous and not at all afraid to show some skin. Naruko Uzumaki was a rare beauty even by the standards of kunoichi, who tended to be very attractive people in general, and while she did not surpass the fairest flowers of the Leaf, there were none who could say that she wasn't hot. Konohamaru could say a great deal more than that. So could Hanabi, who was a friend of Naruko. They were sisters-in-law, even if Naruko was only a half-sister of Naruto (who had married Hanabi's sister, Hinata) and they had an uncommonly warm and close relationship for two such persons. There was much trust and love between the pair.  
  
Rather more love than was decent, some might even say.  
  
"Hello, sister," said Hanabi cheerfully, greeting Naruko with a very tight hug. The brunette was slender and not particularly busty, but that only enhanced the excellence of the sight of Naruko's chest mashing against hers.  
  
"Hey, sis," Naruko said, her hands roaming quite freely down Hanabi's back. "Hey, Kono."  
  
Konohamaru smiled at Naruko, standing very close beside Hanabi. His hand was on the small of the latter's back, and his eyes wandered pleasantly down the former's front. Naruko was not offended, and indeed she smiled cheerily at him.  
  
"You look good, today," Konohamaru said to Naruko.  
  
"You  _do_ ," Hanabi agreed, winking and pulling back from the hug. She beamed. "Gosh, but how do you get so cute? I could gobble you up, girl!"  
  
Naruko giggled. In contrast with her fiery youth, as a woman she had grown to be rather ditzy, if that was the right word for it.  _Flirty_  may be closer to the mark, in some regards, though she had never been the brightest bulb. Hanabi sometimes joked that her tits had stolen all the nutrition from her brain, and Konohamaru could believe this, when he looked down at Naruko's chest. She was very buxom indeed, most uncommonly so: enough even to match the likes of Hinata and Temari.  
  
He smiled, looking casually at Naruko's chest.  
  
"Don't stare," said the blonde, smiling prettily. "Not in front of your girlfriend, at least."  
  
"I'm sure I don't have any such thing," said Konohamaru, cheekily but not untruthfully. Although he and Hanabi had a very close and enthusiastic relationship, they weren't officially dating. His relationship with her was closer to what he had with Sakura and Ino than anything else.  
  
Hanabi was his bitch, in effect, and a happier bitch there had probably never been. For Hanabi knew exactly what she was, and she wiggled her hips gladly as Konohamaru's hand drifted down to her backside, grinning and basking in the feel of his hand. She looked at him with pearlescent eyes, pink cheeks flush with pleasure from the feel of his fingers digging into her buttocks, pinching and kneading.  
  
Naruko chuckled, looking at the expression on Hanabi's face and guessing near enough to the mark what the pair were doing. She cocked her hips and waved a hand airily.  
  
"Well,  _whatever_  she is to you," she said. "You shouldn't make her feel unwanted, or jealous. A woman's heart is a fickle thing, Konohamaru-chan."  
  
"Trust me, love," said Hanabi, winking at Naruko. "Konohamaru makes me feel more things than you can imagine, but  _unwanted_  isn't one of them." She said this lightly, and she leaned into Konohamaru's hand and quite undisguisedly laid a palm of her own on his thigh.  
  
Naruko watched with a slight blush, not particularly abashed, but still aware that this was a very intimate sort of action.  
  
"Are you sure you two don't need some alone time?" she asked.  
  
"We came to visit you," said Konohamaru. "We don't need to be alone. Not if  _you_  don't want to be alone."  
  
"Eh?" said Naruko, frowning cutely as she tried to puzzle out this statement. It was a touch more obtuse than she could readily decipher.  
  
"You can join us, if you want," said Hanabi more plainly, now rubbing a hand over Konohamaru's crotch.  
  
Naruko laughed, then, understanding the meaning and finding herself amused. "I'd be glad to join  _you_ , Hanabi-chan," she said cheerfully. "But I'm not sure I trust Konohamaru to be a gentleman."  
  
"Who wants a gentleman?" asked Konohamaru rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow. "No woman I've met, at least."  
  
"Not Hanabi, maybe," agreed Naruko fairly, still grinning. "I'm sure she has her own interests. But if I'm a flirt, I'm  _not_  a slut."  
  
"Oh? I'd say that remains to be seen," said Hanabi slyly.  
  
"Well, for  _you_  I could be," Naruko conceded, batting her eyelashes at her sister-in-law. She stepped forward, swinging her hips. "But Konohamaru? I'm not sure if he's  _worthy_."  
  
Konohamaru laughed at this, and his laughter was long and loud.  
  
"Hahaha!  _Me_?" he said heartily. "No, no, I'm not the one whose worth is doubtful, Naruko! You should be the one begging for a ride on my dick."  
  
Naruko smiled still, looking at Konohamaru with glittering eyes. Her posture didn't much change, remaining playful and warm and welcoming of these guests in her apartment. But she did shift a little, not quite defensive, but certainly not immediately accepting of this advance, either.  
  
"Maybe, maybe..." she said pleasantly, still affable in tone. "I won't deny that you're handsome, and Hanabi seems to enjoy you an awful lot. Maybe even more than is good for her. But I didn't say I'm against a little...  _fun_. It could be nice to experiment."  
  
Hanabi's eyes lit up at this, and her fingers flicked Konohamaru's zipper, which she tugged unceremoniously down. Naruko watched intently despite herself, and she couldn't help smiling when a dick of the most impressive size sprang out from the man's open fly. The blonde felt herself warm nicely at the sight. It was quite a big cock, and only just small enough that it would not seem too great to fit inside a girl. She'd seen few larger in porn, and none larger in person.  
  
Naruko looked at Konohamaru, glancing up from his dick. She saw him smiling pleasantly at her, but his eyes were steamy, and her heart nearly skipped a beat at the glint of them. She wasn't sure why, entirely, but something in his glance now seemed very enticing, both marvelous and impressive. His eyes were deep and sultry, and she felt herself start to melt under his gaze. He was a handsome man, and he had an unassumingly charismatic presence that could, at times, flare up like a bonfire and make all other personalities seem small and dim by comparison.  
  
Konohamaru Sarutobi was an elite shinobi. He was a jounin, and that rank was well deserved from all that Naruko had seen and heard. He was masterful and strong, swift and indefatigable, bold and firm and resolute of conviction. He would not yield once he had made up his mind, and he had a fair store of wisdom by which he took counsel, judging in accordance to his own thought what was best for the mission. Rarely ever had he erred, and always he had justified forgiveness of those few lapses.  
  
He was a man on a whole other level from Naruko. Only a handful of people were outright more powerful than him, and most of those were kage, past or present. Indeed, Konohamaru was widely considered one of the favorite candidates to succeed her brother, when Naruto finally stepped down as hokage. Naruko knew this well, and a good deal better than most people did. Yet it was not for his fame or his strength that she now found herself slowly falling, nor for his lineage, or his achievements, or his high prospects.  
  
It was his glance that smote her breast, the shapeliness of his face and his body, his handsome looks and his dashing manner. She felt guiltily fascinated by the effect Konohamaru's cock seemed to have on Hanabi, who mewled and dropped to her knees nearly at the first sight of it, panting and sticking out her tongue, wiggling her hips with a pathetically hopeful light in her eyes. She was aroused by the beauty of his form, stricken with wonder and delight as he shed the garments from his body, one by one.  
  
She looked at his chest, rippling and heaving and glistening. He was more manxome than she might have guessed from his frame—not barrel-chested, but endowed with a good deal of lean and steely muscle. His shoulders were also fairly broad, square and straight with a confident poise, and his arms looked solid and powerful. Still he was slender, overall; if not as a willow wand, then like a blade of steel, for he was keen and hard and deadly.  
  
He seemed a paragon of shinobi physicality, his body chiseled and wiry, lithe and firm, while his movements were graceful and sure. He was handsome of face, with eyes that could make a woman melt at a single glance, and with a body of ideal shape and proportion. He suited himself perfectly, every part of him belonging where it was, looking the best possible match for every other part. His form seemed a triumph of aesthetic design, a subtle yet powerful theme of sinew and bone knitting all his frame together into a singular, sublime unity of manhood.  
  
Yet it still came back to his cock.  
  
 _His cock._  
  
Goodness, but what a cock it was! Naruko had expected something very impressive, to be sure, from all that Hanabi had told her of the thing, but this was beyond even her most generous estimations. Hanabi was a woman of no little skill in language, loquacious when she wanted to be, generally very precise in her use of vocabulary, and able to paint the most vivid of pictures with her words. But her descriptions of Konohamaru's cock fell utterly short of the reality. Naruko wondered if it was  _possible_  to explain the magnificence of such a thing to any who had not seen it.  
  
Perhaps not.  
  
Perhaps only someone who had glimpsed Konohamaru's cock for themselves could understand the full richness of its size and form, its peerless shape and solidity. It was a wonder of human biology, a thing of quality that transcended all the base description of language. There was a symmetry to it, a perfect subtle curvature from base to tip, a synergy to its design that made it seem, like a work of art, to exceed the sum of its components and become something vastly greater than could be conveyed by simple material measurement.  
  
His cock was simply beautiful, to Naruko. She could think of no other way to describe it. She hardly felt she was exaggerating the slightest bit to wax on as she did in her mind, such a flowery and grandiose stream of prose unfolding within her imagination.  
  
While she was in most ways seemingly rather dense and ditzy, Naruko had a deep spirituality and an abiding love of art and all things that were fair to look upon.  
  
Still, she  _was_  also more than a bit of a ditz, and she giggled to herself, starting to feel very pleasantly foolish the longer she stared at Konohamaru's dick. She ogled it and reveled inwardly at the sight, abandoning all other lines of thought in her growing desire for that thing. She felt his gaze, too, still burning upon her and making her tingle. Naruko felt like she would be dashed to pieces if she looked into Konohamaru's eyes now, if she met his steamy, seductive gaze in her current, rather horny state.  
  
This did not keep her from doing it. She looked up from the man's cock to gaze into his eyes, and she was pleased to find her expectations wholly accurate.  
  
A doujutsu like the sharingan could scarcely have done more to her, at a single look, than Konohamaru's eyes, which held no power save pure animal magnetism. Their simple beauty and charisma lent his glance a more perilous strength than any kekkei genkai, his good looks and force of personality better able to snare a woman's heart and mind than the  _Koto-Amatsukami_  of Shunshin no Shisui.  
  
Naruko submitted to that glance. She bowed her head, smiling cheerily, watching as Hanabi pressed her lips to the side of Konohamaru's pulsing shaft, laving her tongue with relish and devotion over the shapely length of his phallus. Naruko's heartbeat quickened with the anticipation and the awareness of his stare as she unclasped her top. With a thrill and a growing warmth she exposed her cleavage, parting her shirt down its front.  
  
"You're willing to experiment, you say?" Konohamaru asked her in a playful tone of voice. "What do you mean by that, I wonder."  
  
He didn't need to ask for clarification, and Naruko did not give it to him. What use would there be, when she was undressing in preparation for his ravishing, compelled by his eyes to do this thing and relinquish herself into his strong, nurturing hands, to say that she had never before lain with a man in this way? That all her past experience had been with other women, and Hanabi most particularly? It would accomplish nothing, and contribute nothing.  
  
Konohamaru already knew, anyways. She could tell as much from the amused quirk of his lips, the intriguing glint of his eyes, the extra throb of his cock as he watched her expose her tits and thought that he would be the first man to touch them sexually. He knew that his cock would be the first she ever took, his sperm the first sperm to ever enter into her womanhood. He knew all of this, and it gave him a doubled power and still greater pleasure in this scenario.  
  
He was so enthralling, to make her do this. He had not even seriously propositioned her yet, had he? Naruko tried to think if he had, but she could not recall it. Up to this point it had all been little more than flirtation and dirty jokes, such talk as might be brushed off as merely fun between friends. She had only been teasing and bantering, herself, until now. But Hanabi had taken it seriously, perhaps, or else had thought to shock their host with a very tasteless sort of joke.  
  
But it wasn't a joke, now. It wasn't play or teasing or jest. They had crossed the threshold of mere insinuation—even of bold, shameless, obscene flirtation. Naruko wasn't sure, in her present state of mind, how or why or when they had crossed the line into this strange and wonderful new territory, but she found herself profoundly glad of it. She was pleased that things had come to this point. Now that the moment was here, she found herself entirely willing and eager.  
  
Naruko exposed her body. Her breasts were full and massive, great mounds that drooped only minutely despite the burden of their considerable weight. Huge and olive they were, darker than Hanabi's and bigger by no small amount, corpulent bombshells crowned with large and vulgar nipples. They heaved with her breathing, rising and falling with a tremble and a quake, generously jiggling. Her abdomen was lean, sinuous, flat and toned. Her waist was slim, flowing down from her tits and on to broad hips, an hourglass figure that made her seem better suited as a cumdump than a kunoichi. She had a soft ass, big and bouncy, a lovely and twerkable expanse of lewd, rosy flesh. Her thighs were juicy, and her pussy was plump. Long-legged, she was, and she had a very cute face.  
  
Her eyelids drooped sensually as she looked upon Konohamaru's form.  
  
Hanabi wiggled her hips, brushing a chocolate brown tress of hair from her face and looking sidelong at Naruko. The brunette's lips were stretched and her cheeks depressed as sucked on Konohamaru's dick, getting him good and hard. Somehow it seemed more obscene for her to do this fully dressed while Konohamaru was nude, than with him clothed and herself naked. It suggested, seemingly, that she was the kind of woman who would suck cock at any time and in any place, dropping to her knees at the drop of a hat.  
  
Naruko shivered at the look on Hanabi's face, at her ruddy cheeks and glassy byakugan. She wiggled her own hips and took a step forward, biting her lip and putting a hand to her breast. Staring intently at her friend, she felt a pang of jealousy, and she realized that she wished she was in Hanabi's place. She wanted Konohamaru's cock. She wanted to make him feel good. She wanted...  
  
She couldn't even put a name to it. There was so much that she wanted, and none of it was decent, none of it dignified or respectable. She wanted to be his bitch, to be a slut who lived for the sake of his amusement and pleasure. If she could not service him, then she wanted to entertain him, to debase herself and make him laugh. She wanted him to name her unkindly yet justly, to deserve of him all the worst titles that a man could give a woman.  
  
Panting, thrilled by these wild imaginings and half formed fancies, Naruko spread her legs and grasped her breasts, looking into Konohamaru's eyes, his deep and entrancing eyes more formidable than the doujutsu of Sasuke Uchiha, more compelling and charismatic than even the eyes of her brother. She felt warm and excited, hot and wet and tingly, horny and wonderfully humiliated. She played with her tits, far more for show than her own pleasure, though she enjoyed it greatly nonetheless, and she rolled her hips and rocked them, mimicking all the ways she could grind and wriggle and shake if only he would fuck her.  
  
"Konohamaru-kuuuun..." she moaned breathlessly, batting her eyelashes and smiling sultrily. She heaved her enormous breasts to and fro, raising them with grunts of effort only somewhat exaggerated, squeezing and mashing and groping and kneading. It was very showy, very lewd, and very shameful. "Hanabi-chaaaan...❤"  
  
"Mm, mmph. That's Konohamaru- _sama_  to you,  _mph_ ," said Hanabi, pulling her mouth off of Konohamaru's spit-slicked prick just long to say those words, before diving back in and stuffing her face anew with his bountiful meat.  
  
"Only if Naruko-chan wants to call me that," Konohamaru added, groaning nicely as Hanabi continued sucking him off.  
  
His words were casually spoken, yet his eyes said a world more and otherwise, telling Naruko with a glance what she would owe him if she wanted the honor of his cock inside her.  
  
She whimpered pleasurably at the suggestion of his eyes, the seductive power they held over her. Genjutsu hypnosis could not have influenced her more thoroughly, no arcane compulsion sufficient to match the influence of his sheer animal magnetism and her raw, burgeoning lust. Her entire being, mind and body, felt so bound to his whim, so convinced that his desires were all the best and most sensible course of action, that she could do nothing but what would please him, or so it felt.  
  
Naruko dropped to her hands and knees. She crawled up to Konohamaru, moving alongside Hanabi and looking her friend straight in the eye. She smiled slavishly and stooped her head, reaching up to clasp one of her hands over Konohamaru's balls and planting a short but wet kiss on Hanabi's cheek as her friend continued to suck his dick.  
  
"Okay, then..." Naruko said in a silky, husky voice. "Will you fuck me,  _Konohamaru-sama?_  I'm a very naughty girl. I'm a horny little cunt who only wants to have sex with you. I can't think of anything else I'd want more, right now. Please, master❤"  
  
Hanabi pulled back her mouth from Konohamaru's manhood, and turning her head she kissed Naruko abruptly on the lips. Their tongues joined quickly, and Naruko tasted Konohamaru's cock in all the corners of Hanabi's mouth. The flavor, and the thought of where her friend's mouth had just been, made Naruko shiver euphorically, and she moaned.  
  
Konohamaru looked down at the pair, and he grinned.  
  
"I don't see why not," he said lightly, as if it was no big deal. "Since you asked so nicely."  
  
And saying this, he moved behind Naruko. The blonde continued kissing Hanabi, and she began to undress her friend even as she raised her hips in anticipation, spreading her legs and giving her ass a shake. Konohamaru watched this and was pleased, feeling delighted to see his mentor's little sister in this state, and his blood was hot with the desire of her flesh.  
  
His cock throbbed, stiff and erect and eager to penetrate.  
  
So he penetrated. He pressed himself up between her legs, grabbing her by the hips, digging his thumbs into the cheeks of her ass as his fingers curled and furrowed her thighs. The head of his dick pushed against the puffy, swollen labia of Naruko's pussy, sliding against the peeking pink folds of her hot, soaking, horny sex. His ass flexed, and his legs clenched, and his breath came in a sharp, audible  _hisss_  as he thrust himself into the blonde.  
  
His eyelids fluttered, and he grinned dreamily. His shoulders rolled and his chest slowly heaved, his skin smooth and starting to glisten with a sheen of perspiration, a sweat of eagerness beading here and there upon his shapely, masculine form.  
  
"Mmmmph..." Naruko moaned into Hanabi's lips, fondling her friend's smaller breasts, groping a tighter and more compact bum. She squirmed, her skin crawling as Konohamaru slowly rocked himself back and forth within her, sliding his cock exploratively inside her pussy. Shivers raced through her body, and she went nearly limp for loss of all control. "Mmmm! Ngghaaah❤"  
"You're less tight than I would've thought," Konohamaru grunted, pistoning his pelvis and giving Naruko's ass a friendly smack, making her shudder and moan more shamelessly still. "For someone who's been a lesbian until now."  
  
Hanabi broke off the kiss with Naruko, smiling cattily. Her eyes glittered, and at Naruko's disappointed whine she put a finger to the blonde's lips and grasped her bosom, squeezing her tits and teasing a nipple, pinching, twisting, flicking, and pulling.  
  
"She can still use dildos, Konohamaru-sama," she said, cheeky but not irreverent. "Mmmm, and she uses some of the  _biggest_  I've ever seen, the slut."  
  
Naruko did not protest at being so named, though she blushed and whimpered at the words, and at Hanabi's well and masterful use of her bosom.  
  
"Fair enough," Konohamaru chuckled, and he clapped his hips against Naruko's meaty ass, making the blonde's entire body rock forward from the weight of his thrust. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth gaped open, and her tongue lolled momentarily out as her free tit briefly swung while the other leaped and quivered in Hanabi's hand. "No rules against that, are there? Heh."  
  
"Nnnngh! Aahhhn!" Naruko moaned breathlessly, shivering at Konohamaru's fucking. "Oohh, master! Darling! God, that feels... nnnnn! Mmmmm! Yes!"  
  
Hanabi smiled, pleased to hear Naruko speaking so warmly and adoringly of her master's skills. She wiggled her hips and fondled the blonde's breasts a little harder, bringing her other hand to join the first. And Naruko continued to grope Hanabi, though she had difficulty controlling her hands with such a big and compelling distraction ramming into her from behind.  
  
"You like that, don't you, love?" Hanabi purred to Naruko, bringing their faces again very close, if not quite so close as to kiss. "You love it when he fucks you. I know you do. You never made these kinds of sounds when  _we_  did it—not that I blame you. There's really no comparing with master, after all, or with his cock."  
  
Naruko smiled piteously, her expression a lovely ahegao. Her eyes were rolled up, and her cheeks were red, and she hardly seemed able to close her mouth. Continuously she moaned, and  _clap, clap, clap_  her backside collided with Konohamaru's pelvis, the man drilling his cock ever harder and deeper into her. She was in heaven as he fucked her. That was clear to see from every part of her posture and face.  
  
She was melting from the heat of his cock, and her body was drooping even as her loins tensed, her legs convulsing and her toes curling. She was barely in control of anything she did, and at this point all she knew and all she could think went only as far as pertained to Konohamaru, his cock, and how she might thank him for the immeasurable boon of this fucking. She was getting more D than she'd ever thought she could want, and she was loving every second of it.  
  
Hanabi's byakugan activated. Veins crept outward from pale eyes, and cute lips beautifully crinkled in a smile. She kissed Naruko and fondled her breasts, and she stared through the blonde's body and into her navel, down to her pussy. She saw Konohamaru's dick rubbing against the nerve endings in Naruko's cunt, grinding through the silky folds of her pussy. A twitch of his prick made her shiver, and she watched his balls clench as he fucked Naruko.  
  
"Konohamaru...!" moaned Naruko. "Hanabi...! Yes, yes, yes! YES! Fuck me, Konohamaru-sama, fuck me  _harder!_  I need it. I need your dick. I need that big, meaty cock deep inside me! Yes, yes...❤ Fuck, you're so  _good!_ "  
  
"That's right. Take it, you whore!" Konohamaru grunted, slapping her ass with a loud  _smack_. "Damn, you're filthy. I can't even call you a woman at this point! You're just a cocksleeve. You're just my personal sex toy, aren't you?"  
  
"Yesssss❤" Naruko moaned, blissful beyond guess at these words. "Yes, yes, exactly! It's true! I'm just a bundle of holes for you to fuck, master! Oh, oh, shit! Yeah... YEAH! Konohamaru-sama! Nnngh!❤"  
  
Hanabi stroked the perimeter of Naruko's areolae, teasing the base of the blonde's big, naughty nipples. She heaved the great breasts in her hands, digging her fingers deep into them and thrusting chakra from her tips. Skillfully she triggered precise tenketsu within Naruko's bosom, pressure points she knew from long experience, stimulating nerves inside her friend's tits. As expected she saw Naruko tense up, and she recognized the signs of nearing orgasm both within and without the blonde's body.  
  
She kissed Naruko again, more deeply still, and delivered the final stroke right when she saw Konohamaru's cock seize up, the inner mechanisms or erection thrusting forth a delivery of fresh, rich semen straight for Naruko's heretofore untouched womb. Panting, Hanabi drove her tongue deep into her friend's mouth, invading that all-too-familiar territory in a final act of domination. Naruko was pinned between her and her beloved master.  
  
Naruko felt her world go alight in an explosion of ecstasy, perceiving the gout of Konohamaru's come that shot inside her, touching her insides like a soothing balm for an itch she'd never noticed until now. She came even as Konohamaru came, and her juices gushed and mingled with his ejaculate. Her entire body tensed and leaped and quivered, a flash and a tingling and a numbness of contentment that spread to her furthest ends.  
  
Briefly, the blonde pondered what it would be like if she got pregnant from this. How would she explain it to her mother, or to her brother? It would be compromising beyond belief, if not necessarily shameful. As far as the village at large knew or cared, Konohamaru was single, or else in an on-again off-again relationship with Hanabi. It would not be too disgraceful for her to wind up impregnated by him, all things considered—not, at least, if they married.  
  
Yet that was too far beyond her reach. She did not deserve such an honor. She was just a lowly, horny little slut who'd gotten addicted to his cock from her very first taste. How much more shameful would it be for her to bear his child in wedlock? What would people say about her if she got pregnant and went unmarried, living as a single mother as had  _her_  mother for much of her life? Yet in shinobi society it was far more respectable to be widowed than unwed, and the latter would Naruko be if she got pregnant.  
  
It was an idle fancy that she entertained only fleetingly. No serious consideration did she give to the idea, or else her mood would have been much sobered even in that mind-melting afterglow of orgasm to end all orgasms. It was merely a thing she thought in a moment of witless euphoria, a thing that in itself, alone and removed from all reality, seemed most marvelously erotic, shameful and degrading and humiliating.  
  
She loved it. She moaned into Hanabi's lips, melting and going limp between the forms of man and woman. Her eyelids fluttered nearly shut, and her heaving bosom rested ponderously in a soft but firm grip.  
  
Naruko slumped.  
  
She was slick with sweat, and her breathing was ragged, and her body felt hot, hot,  _hot_. She drooped to the floor, a puddle of womanly bliss lying between Hanabi and Konohamaru. Come dribbled from her pussy.  
  
Konohamaru's dick wilted a little in its satiety, but it did not go wholly flaccid. Hanabi was soon upon it once more, and with redoubled enthusiasm she licked her master clean.  
  
Sore but much pleased, Konohamaru stroked Hanabi's head and looked down on Naruko.  
  
"You're a good bitch," he told her.  
  
Happily the blonde mewled and wriggled.  
  
 _Slurp, slurp, slurp,_  was all the noise Hanabi could make.


	4. Temari Undermined

Temari greeted Konohamaru with a curt nod. She was kneeling in formal seiza, seated upon a mat in her and Shikamaru's house. Her demeanor was serious, stern, and stiffly polite. She was a very mature and lovely woman, exotically beautiful in that way of Suna natives, but she was also a very forbidding individual, impressive and authoritative.  
  
She was the daughter of the Fourth Kazekage, after all, and the Fifth's elder sister besides. As well, she was the wife of the Lord Seventh Hokage's most trusted advisor, highly placed in the societies of both Konoha and Sunagakure. She was one of the most remote and untouchable women in the village, both for her reputation as a kunoichi and for her close connections with so many very important persons.  
  
Even now, emboldened by his many recent conquests, by a growing harem of secret and not-so-secret mistresses, Konohamaru could feel a certain pressure that bore down upon him as he knelt before Temari. Here on business or not, he couldn't help but feel as if he was an intruder, that if he made one misstep he would be thrown out. He had not yet encountered a woman so impressively firm and proud, and this resoluteness of character made Temari seem all the hotter. Konohamaru felt that much more eager to think of conquering her, seducing and subverting her to the same state as Sakura, or Ino, or Hanabi, or Naruko. It would be a very great accomplishment to master a woman like this.  
  
Unlike Sakura, who was also a person of very high standing in her tutelage and her station as one of the world's greatest medic-ninja—the most brilliant and accomplished doctor on the continent—and married to a man even more renowned and directly fearsome than Shikamaru Nara, Temari was content. Only because she was lonely and morose had Konohamaru found it so easy to seduce Sakura. Plus, Sakura was naturally rather insecure and easily influenced. Temari, on the other hand, was self-possessed, masterful, and more likely to be grim than woeful, hard of heart and difficult to move one way or the other.  
  
He hadn't  _come_  here to seduce Temari, of course. He was here on business—at the bidding of Shikamaru, even. Still, with how things had gone of late, Konohamaru found himself ever more often evaluating women first in the context of how he might tempt, sway, and dominate them. And Temari was a pleasant rarity in that he could not see a way to quickly or easily own her. Not unless...  
  
Well, maybe  _that_  could work. It would require patience, though.  
  
"Hello, Konohamaru," Temari said lightly. greeting him with a nod and interrupting his thoughts. "I understand you have a message for me?"  
  
"Yeah," Konohamaru said. "From your husband. He has to work late, tonight, so he told me to come and tell you."  
  
Temari pursed her lips. "He sent a messenger just for that? He could have called."  
  
"Maybe." Konohamaru shrugged. "I don't assume to know his reasoning."  
  
"Nobody does, it seems," said Temari dryly. "But, fine. I suppose you've delivered your message."  
  
"Do you?" said Konohamaru. "Well, I've told you what Shikamaru wanted me to say, at least. Of course, it wasn't  _much_  of a message..."  
  
"So it wasn't," said Temari.  
  
She looked at Konohamaru, assessing him a little too shrewdly. In the glint of her penetrating eyes, he saw the proof of what was widely said—that this woman was Shikamaru's wife as much for the merit of her intellect as for any quality of physical beauty. And Temari was  _very_  beautiful.  
  
He smiled at her, giving the most charming and winsome expression he could. "Shikamaru's a bit inconsiderate, don't you think?" he said lightly, framing the comment in an idle, vaguely joking tone. "Leaving a beautiful wife like you waiting at home, alone."  
  
Temari sniffed. She seemed unimpressed by Konohamaru's smile and likewise unmoved by his remark.  
  
"I'm not a pining little girl," she said.  
  
"Of course you aren't," Konohamaru agreed. "You're a strong, independent woman. Nobody takes  _you_  for granted."  
  
Temari paused, and she looked a touch sourly at Konohamaru.  
  
"Did you have other business here?" she asked him.  
  
"Not really," Konohamaru said. "But I thought maybe you might want to chat?"  
  
"Well, I don't," said Temari.  
  
Her tone was polite, but the meaning was rude. Of course, Konohamaru was also being a rather ungracious guest, himself. Temari, as a grown woman and notable member of shinobi society, was too courteous to simply tell him to leave. Were she younger and more churlish, perhaps, she might have done so, but she was too adult and responsible to breach  _xenia_  in such a fashion; not without a good and substantial cause.  
  
Right now, Konohamaru was just being annoying and presumptuously friendly. It was a trait he shared with the Hokage, though where Temari respected Naruto as the leader of Konoha and her youngest brother's best friend, Konohamaru had no such fondness owned, nor any claim on her patience beyond a general camaraderie as the soldiers of allied sovereigns.  
  
He smiled at her, bright and charming. His eyes gleamed, and they met hers with a warmth and passion that few women could have endured. He did not put his will into the glance, and he did not focus his desires upon Temari such that she might perceive his greedy longing, but even just this smile and friendly look would have softened many others.  
  
Yet Temari was like a figure carved from stone. She crossed her arms over an ample bust, and she inclined her head with just a hint of impatience.  
  
"I don't have any tea ready," she said meaningfully.  
  
"I don't need tea," Konohamaru answered, pretending not to understand. "Though I'm sure any snack prepared by you would be delicious."  
  
Temari made a half shrug at this compliment. She was not displeased by the praise, but neither did it seem to delight her.  
  
"Do you have anywhere you need to be?" she asked with all the politeness she could muster.  
  
"Nowhere, really," said he. "I have time to spare."  
  
"Why do you spend it with me, then?" she asked, by which she meant ' _what are you doing here, and when will you leave?_ '  
  
"I want to get to know you," he said pleasantly. "You seem like a lovely and intelligent person."  
  
"I'm married," Temari said flatly.  
  
"Of course you are," agreed Konohamaru. "But what has that got to do with this?"  
  
There were a couple of ways one might have taken that remark. Either they might assume it to mean that his intentions were wholly innocent and platonic, such that the matter of her marriage would be irrelevant. Or they might have taken it to mean that he saw marriage as a meaningless ritual that held no power to keep a woman from desiring a man other than her husband.  
  
Temari didn't seem entirely devoted to either interpretation, judging by the way she eyed him, and she did not make any remark. She simply sat and watched him for a moment, her chest rising and falling with slow, calm breathing. Her form was lovely, and her face was striking.  
  
Konohamaru couldn't help but smile, looking at her, and Temari's mouth thinned at the sight of this expression. She guessed more of his thought than most others might have.  
  
"Please leave," she told him, finally pushed beyond the patience of courtesy.  
  
"Oh? Sure, if you want," Konohamaru said amiably, as if he did not mind this one bit.  
  
  
He got up from his spot, humming to himself. He took his time in rising, stretching his limbs and loosening himself up in ways that would have made many women blush. And as he turned to leave. he gave Temari a last, sly look.  
  
"What?" she asked, seeing the twinkle in his eyes and feeling disgruntled.  
  
"Feel free to call me if you're ever lonely," Konohamaru said. "I'd be glad to come by again anytime. Keep you company, if you want. "  
  
Temari colored deeply red.  
  
"Please leave," she said, her eyes kindling.  
  
"Fine, fine!" said Konohamaru cheerfully, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm going, I'm going."  
  
And so speaking, he left.  
  
Temari watched him go with a sour expression, but her cheeks were still brightly pink.  
  
  
  
  
A few days passed between that encounter and their next meeting. Konohamaru went about things the usual way, enjoying time with his bitches and doing his work as a ninja of the Leaf. He was more often in the village than out of it, these days, in his capacity as a jounin sensei rarely going on long missions abroad. So he was able to get with the girls often, and give them all the attention they needed.  
  
He thought about Temari now and then. He mused on her loveliness, occasionally, and contemplated the firmness of will she had demonstrated in shrugging off his flirtations. Few other women, he thought, could have done so. But  _she_ did.  
  
Still, she hardly dominated his thoughts. He had many interests and many cares, and the affections of a single married woman hardly seemed the most pressing thing in the world. Therefore, when they met in the market a few days after his visit to her home, Konohamaru was not especially flustered. He greeted her pleasantly, so polite and inoffensive that one could be forgiven for thinking that he had not done anything to anger or insult her.  
  
Temari, in contrast to how stern and cool she had been under her own roof, gave a start at the sound of Konohamaru's voice, and she spun around to stare at him. A clear flush was in her cheeks, and her eyes were wider than their wont. Her frame was tense like a coiled spring, and it took her several seconds to regain her composure. During that time passersby walked around them, shoppers going hither and yon on their regular errands.  
  
"Hey," said Konohamaru, smiling at Temari's discomfiture. "You okay?"  
  
"Guh... hello, Konohamaru," Temari said, not quite meeting his eye. "I didn't expect to run into you."  
  
"Same here," said Konohamaru. "Funny how these things work out, huh?"  
  
"I don't think it's funny," Temari said.  
  
"No? Well, maybe not  _haha_  funny," he conceded. "But it's a curious coincidence, all the same. I'd just been thinking about you."  
  
"Ah? In what way?" Temari asked, her voice low. She eyed him sharply.  
  
"What way do you  _think?_ " Konohamaru replied, smirking. "I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself."  
  
Temari's blush deepened.  
  
"Oh?" Konohamaru said, his eyes bright. "That's a pretty look on you, Temari-san. But what are you thinking to make you blush like that?"  
  
"That's..." she mumbled lamely. "That's none of your business." She paused, fidgeting. "But... if you  _must_  know, then I'd say you've been developing a bit of a reputation as a womanizer. So..."  
  
"Is that so? In what regard?" asked Konohamaru, looking intrigued.  
  
"Well, you're in a relationship with Hanabi Hyuuga," Temari said, gesturing vaguely.  
  
"And?" said Konohamaru.  
  
Temari frowned, her cheeks still a fair bit pink.  
  
"From what I hear, it's a very...  _racy_  relationship."  
  
Konohamaru laughed.  
  
"She's been bragging to you, has she?" he said.  
  
"S-Something like that," Temari muttered. "It's appalling to hear such a respectable young woman go on like that. And the tall tales she tells, too! If one were to believe what she says, they would think you were secretly involved with half the women in the village."  
  
Konohamaru chortled.  
  
  
"Do  _you_  think that?" he asked.  
  
Temari snorted, regaining some of her usual composure.  
  
"Oh, as if," she said. "You don't seem like someone who could draw in so many lovers, though I don't doubt that she speaks with at least a grain of truth. You  _are_  a real womanizer, I bet. And maybe Hanabi has no problem with that kind of relationship, but I don't want any part in it."  
  
She couldn't quite meet his eyes when she said this last bit.  
  
"I'm sure I don't have the faintest idea what you mean," Konohamaru said, smiling pleasantly. "I am a perfect gentleman."  
  
"You were propositioning me, the last time we met," Temari retorted, her cheeks reddening.  
  
She fidgeted, her demeanor betraying how the intervening days had wormed his words deeper into her, niggling at the slightest chink of unhappiness in her marriage until it was split wide open. Her own keen mind had turned against her, like a sword that sliced its owner's hand, gnawing itself in endless rumination on the implications and inferences of her last conversation with this man.  
  
Konohamaru gave her a mildly surprised look.  
  
"I was  _not_ ," he said, faintly amused. "Trust me, Temari-san. If I was propositioning you, it wouldn't have taken you this long to realize it. I don't beat around the bush."  
  
He struck a slight pose, a subtle cocking of the hips and thrusting of his pelvis, casting his eyes up and down Temari's voluptuous form. He winked at her and gestured with one of his hands, forming a sign that was very obscene if not necessarily  _rude_.  
  
Temari blushed, looking at this, and she huffed in something not unlike displeasure. Her arms she crossed under her bosom, causing it to be lifted up in a manner that was very suggestive to the size and weight and softness of her ample, Sand ninja tits.  
  
Konohamaru watched with a grin, and he cast his eyes meaningfully around them, indicating the crowd without a word.  
  
His intent could not now be mistaken.  
  
Against her better judgement, Temari followed him to a more private location. They slipped away from the storefronts and the vendor stalls, from the shop assistants who went out into the street handing out fliers and promotions, and from the many scores of busy shoppers. The pair of them went down an alley a block away, and they moved skillfully through the winding backstreets, picking their way through narrow and dirty paths.  
  
Eventually they came to a very dark and secluded spot. It was dirty and disused, receiving no visitors apart from the occasion tramp or transient. There was no one else around, and they were hemmed in between high, windowless walls of brick and plaster. Papers yellowed and dusty, food wrappers and old periodicals, were littered here and there. It was not especially filthy or unsavory, but still this was not a place where people would go who had legitimate business to attend.  
  
Temari finally stopped, and she looked at Konohamaru whom she had followed hence. Her breathing was a little more labored from their speedy walk than she was pleased to note, and a few beads of sweat rolled down her face. She blinked, and she felt newly aware of her heaving bosom when Konohamaru smiled and looked intently thither.  
  
A shiver went down her spine. First, she mused that she was out of shape, to be even remotely winded by this merely speedy walk. Next she looked at Konohamaru and wondered at the way he stared at her, realizing ruefully how foolish it was for her come here with him.  
  
If he pinned her to the wall and ripped off her clothes, what would she be able to do in defense?  
  
Little, without her war fan. Very little that Konohamaru could not do better.  
  
She felt a thrill, secret and shameful, at this thought. Despite herself she envisioned Konohamaru leaning over her, pinning her arms at her sides and pressing her back to the wall, forcibly spreading her legs and rubbing their bodies greedily together. She imagined herself naked and defenseless before this man, and she imagined him throwing her down and raping her furiously.  
  
It was not an altogether displeasing fantasy. She blushed and, gulping, found her eyes slip down Konohamaru's frame to glance at his crotch. Her face burned to see a swell thereat, and her mouth went dry in wonder and fearful anticipation. She could not delude herself to what was likely now about to happen.  
  
Maybe he wouldn't rape her, but...  
  
Maybe it  _wouldn't_  be rape, if...  
  
Maybe, maybe... maybe she  _wanted_  this.  
  
Because when she looked at his groin, Temari certainly felt a pang of hopeful excitement. When she thought of how she had come here, she felt very little regret for her folly in following him. She felt desirous of Konohamaru's touch, and somewhat bitterly she reflected on their brief conversation the other day.  
  
She loved Shikamaru. He was her husband, and she honored him, and she was very close and fond of him. But he was a busy man, and he had never been the most overtly affectionate person. He could make her feel beautiful, still; he could let her know that she was yet loved, when they joined, but it was ever rarer for this to happen. They didn't have the time, these days, and  _he_  didn't have the energy.  
  
Temari was at that stage of life where a person who had once prided themselves on youthful beauty might come to feel bitter and melancholic. She was not, herself, the sort to care especially much about her looks—if she paid any heed to her dress and toiletry at all, it was only because this was a natural part of courtesy and society. But still, she did feel conscious that she was getting on into middle age, and alongside the increasing responsibilities of her husband over the past few years, his work as the Hokage's advisor leaving them fewer opportunities to make love, and the length of their marriage somewhat cooling the intensity of their physical intimacies, she couldn't help but long for the days when they were still a young couple reveling in newlywed bliss.  
  
And now here came Konohamaru, a younger man of no small charm and handsomeness, smiling at her and seeming to say with his eyes how passionately he wanted to fuck her. Temari loved her husband. She respected him. But she was a human being, and she had her own needs.  
  
She was...  
  
She was...  
  
Goodness, but she was a terrible person.  
  
Temari looked at Konohamaru. She felt herself grow warm when he stepped toward her, entering her personal space with a smooth and graceful movement. She stared at his handsome face, and she felt the heat of his body, the weight of his piercing, ravenous glance. She perceived the tenting of his pants, a sizable bulge in the crotch of his trousers.  
  
She did not try to move away. She did not try to push him back. She did not rebuke him or move into a defensive position. She was motionless as he cornered her, and she felt her heart race in something apart from fear as his face drew close. She saw the hunger in his eyes, yet it did not repel or dismay her.  
  
It was... pleasing. She felt honestly glad, in some perverse and backwards part of her mind, to be presented with such attentions. Konohamaru was handsome, and he could be very funny and clever. He was incredibly fit, and decidedly well-endowed. And he was interested in her. He wanted to have sex with her. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and kiss her and  _fuck her_.  
  
Shit, when was the last time she'd felt like this? Maybe not since her birthday. That was the last time she could recall having really good, really exhilarating sex with her husband, and that was more than half a year ago. For all his good qualities, Shikamaru was not an especially forward lover, and that was fine, usually. Temari liked to top, now and then; indeed, she quite enjoyed being the dominant one in sex.  
  
But she also wanted to be the one ravished, sometimes. There were times when she wanted to be the one fondled, the one guided, the one lying back and blushing, moaning, whining as her lover showered her with sweet and sensual attentions. She wanted to be loved as much as she wanted to love, and lately she had felt very little of the former from her husband. She could not reasonably fault him, but neither could she ignore this desire.  
  
Konohamaru said very little to her, when last they met. Their conversation had been brief and unintensive. Yet what little he  _had_  said had sowed many seeds, and though at the time it had been only an annoyance, the fertile soil of her own bright mind proved the undoing of her fidelity. Because for a thoughtful person, even a tiny doubt could soon become a very great fear and dismay, the neurotic processes of a well-developed brain inflating the slightest unhappiness into a suffocating, all-consuming malaise.  
  
Temari had fallen under the weight of her own mind. She was laid low by her intellect, which did more to enlarge and entrench Konohamaru's suggestions into her mind than any effort on his part could have. Her stern pride, which had at first made her invulnerable to his flattery, caused her now to be discontent, and her willful spirit aligned here itself to the desires of Konohamaru, wanting for herself a pleasure that her husband had not given her in far, far too long.  
  
She smiled at Konohamaru, and he knew that his patience had borne fruit. Like a sapper undermining impenetrable walls, he had broken her defenses without even seeming to advance. A tap here, a nick there, before leaving it to fester and groan under a burden of thought, a stress that would inevitably crack Temari's shell along these lines, leaving her wide open and vulnerable. He broke through her defenses by letting her worry them down herself.  
  
She was already his bitch.  
  
Temari undid her blouse. She opened it herself, freely and of her own accord. Smiling at Konohamaru she bared her chest, her bra black and lacy, sexy but not racy. Her tits heaved within the garment's confines, large and creamy, large as precious few others that Konohamaru had ever yet seen. They were soft, as one could tell just by looking and seeing how subtly they quivered with every slightest movement. They were heavy, too, perfectly huge and magnificent.  
  
Konohamaru laid a hand on Temari's chest. He squeezed her bosom through her bra, massaging her teat under the fabric. He brushed his lips against her earlobe, and he brought his pelvis up, spooning her as he pressed her back up against the wall. Her body was warm and welcoming, soft and yielding to his touch. She did not resist. She did not WANT to resist.  
  
"Ah... damn," Temari murmured, blushing beautifully as Konohamaru fondled her. "Shit. How has it come to this...? I'm such a disgraceful woman..."  
  
"You know you love it," Konohamaru growled, his eyes glittering. He bucked his hips and pressed his erection between her legs, dryly humping her.  
  
Temari's bra came off. He yanked it from her chest with a  _snap_  and cast it among the litter. She shivered, shamefully delighted, and she arched her back as Konohamaru pinched a nipple with skill she could barely have imagined. Her eyes widened, and her breathing became heavy. Labored under lust, she trembled and quivered, panting and moaning and silently begging.  
  
"I  _do_ ," she agreed pathetically. "I love it... ohhh, how dreadful of me, but I absolutely  _love it_. Why... why are you so good at this? Why are you so damn  _seductive?_ "  
  
"So I can get with hot bitches like you," Konohamaru said, excitingly rude in his tone. He slipped a hand up her skirt and seized her cunt, fondling her sex and making her gasp. Her panties he thrust aside, yanking them down, and her bare pussy he fingered, plunging his digits into her flower with a glee and abandon that none could equal.  
  
"That's b-bold of you," Temari stammered, biting her lip and trying not to lose her track amidst the desire to moan and beg and praise his hands. Fuck, but if she had known he was  _this_  good...  
  
Temari reached for Konohamaru's crotch, and she undid his zipper. His cock sprang out, the man apparently having gone commando, and she grabbed it as zealously as he grabbed her. Slavishly she worked her hand up and down his shaft, greedily exploring every contour of his great, throbbing phallus. She fondled his cock and moaned, panting as he groped her and pressed himself close.  
  
She felt pathetic. She felt like a piece of human garbage. How could she betray her husband like this, so readily and so happily? How disgusting. How  _reprehensible_.  
  
Konohamaru's eyes mirrored her thoughts with a callous amusement, gleeful to read the humiliation in her expression, silently reveling to see the impotent self-reproach. His lips curved, and he whispered huskily, making her shudder.  
  
"What's so bold about grabbing a slut and giving her what she deserves? I'm doing a public service, really, fucking you needy old cunts."  
  
"Ah... You're so nasty," Temari said, neither accusing or disapproving, but shuddering and feeling his words pierce her like a spear. "Shit... You're a terrible man."  
  
"And you're an awful, remorseless whore of a woman," Konohamaru replied. "I think I'm still better than you."  
  
Temari hissed, feeling a jolt of pleasure from her clitoris, which Konohamaru masterfully teased and twiddled. Her eyes rolled, and her tongue lolled out. She smiled obscenely.  
  
"Oh, I didn't say you  _weren't_ ," she purred. "Mmmn... obviously  _I'm_  trash❤ We can't even be compared. You're only a pervert, master❤"  
  
Konohamaru laughed. Then he kissed her. His tongue entered her mouth, and she moaned. His fingers parted her labia, and she shivered. His cock brushed her thigh, and she squealed, feeling its heat and rigidity. She felt like a slut, she felt like the worst and most shameless skank alive. She felt delighted by his attentions, and she felt wholly subservient to his manhood.  
  
This, some foolish and primitive corner of Temari's mind decided, was how it was meant to be. She was a woman. Konohamaru was a man. He was dominant, he was masterful, he was possessed of a cock like no other. He deserved to own her, to use her, to tease and abuse her. She deserved only to serve him, to be a slave of his body and his wonderful cock.  
  
She was his thrall. She was his concubine. She was his bitch. Were she a fleshlight, just a glorified masturbation aid, she would be no less worthy or dignified a human being! She was a just a mouth, an ass, tits, and a cunt. Her only value was in the pleasure men could derive from her, and Konohmaru was a man who would very much enjoy fucking her.  
  
Temari smiled, and she spread her legs. She held her master's cock, the cock of this man who had overthrown her and made her all but his love-slave. She was enthralled by him, she was fascinated with him, she was...  _hell_ , she even felt like she was falling in love with him.  
  
This was absurd, perhaps, but still it was how she felt. He boggled her mind with his cock, and as he pressed up between her legs, slipping himself inside her with no meaningful difficulty, she thrilled and shuddered and lewdly moaned. Her mind melted under the onslaught of his sex, and she perceived finally the overwhelming pressure, the force and magnetism which had conquered so many women already.  
  
She understood, now, why Hanabi spoke so glowingly of this man. She realized that the rumors were almost certainly true, or else even far short of the mark. This was a person who could slay the heart with sheer desire, who could make the most chaste and faithful maiden pine sultrily for his crudest and most vulgar touch. If he slapped her ass, if he bent her over and tied her up in the middle of the busiest thoroughfare in the village, labeling her naked body from head to toe with declarations of her status as his newest cumdumpster, Temari would bow, kiss his feet, and thank him earnestly and sincerely for that undeserved honor.  
  
"Yes... yes...!" she gasped, feeling his dick thrust furiously into her. "Oh, yes, yes, fuck...! Konohamaru... Konohamaru-sama! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck, fuck,  _fuck me!_ ❤"  
  
Her face was disgustingly lewd, a foolish ahegao that degraded her beyond the status of a person, making her seem perfectly and shamefully low. She was just a cocksleeve, a sex doll, a toy for his amusement.  
  
Konohamaru fucked her. Her breasts leaped, bounding up and jiggling with the rocking motions of her body as his pelvis moved her to and fro. She was bounced on his lap, slapped against the wall, pounding by his pulsing erection. Her cunt spread wide, distended by the girth and the length of his manhood, the size of his cock that left her nearly incapable of thought.  
  
He grabbed her tits. Konohamaru fondled Temari's breasts, working them viciously, fondling them and making her entire body spasm with pleasure. He slapped her ass, spanking her and gripping her buttocks, digging his fingers through her soft and generous cheeks. He groped her and he reamed her, pounding her in a back alley where anyone could stumble across them.  
  
Temari delighted in it. She adored it, for all her pride, intellect, and dignity finding this treatment a pleasure beyond description, a joy inexpressible. She was released from responsibility, from thought, from care and choice. She was made reliant on Konohamaru, and she was glad for it.  
  
She was glad. She was in heaven.  
  
He fondled her breasts, and his cock squelched in her cunt. He gripped her thighs, and he kissed her ravenously, greedily, possessively. She was laid low by him, she was conquered by him, she was shamed and elevated to the bliss of a slut with a big, hard cock to ride.  
  
She was his. He mastered her so easily, it felt like, however she might have initially resisted. It was absurd, it was ridiculous—yet it was still how it was.  
  
Temari was had, Temari was gotten, Temari was fucked.  
  
Temari was now just his newest bitch.  
  
And she couldn't be happier.


	5. Karui is Conquered

Sakura wiggled her hips gleefully, an ass as bare as could be tensing and flexing in unspoken invitation. Her breasts jiggled slightly with the capacious inhalation of lusty her breath, modestly sized and well-shaped with stiff, puffy nipples looking delectably indecent atop the creamy globes of her bosom.

Pink hair swayed and fell in a messy sweep across a high and expressive brow, short in length and disheveled as by intensive exercise. Glistening eyes of verdant green peered lovingly, adoringly upward as a cute and nimble mouth lewdly gaped against the thick, meaty hardness of her master's cock. A sopping wet pussy dripped with her burning arousal, and her tongue, as soft and moist as any part of her body, flitted unabashedly up and down the pulsating length of Konohamaru's erection.

Ino moaned opposite her longtime friend and rival, a hand long and slender delicately cupping her master's balls, dextrous fingers ably working his base and sack. Her breasts were a size or two larger than Sakura's, and her ass was a bit less shapely, good and toned in its own right, but not the equal of Sakura's bodacious backside. Her face made a slightly more obscene expression as she kissed Konohamaru's cock, frenching his shaft across from where Sakura slavered.

It looked rather like the two women were trying to make out with each other when Konohamaru's dick interposed itself, and rather than pushing it away and trying again they ran with it and frenched each other with the base of his dick sandwiched between their lovely mouths. Ino was clearly aware of this, judging by how her eyes twinkled as she looked at Sakura, and Sakura was clearly not oblivious either, considering the way she flashily fondled Ino.

And it was just the base that they licked and slurped and greedily kissed. So great was the size of Konohamaru's manhood that even with these two pressing their lips and tongues to it from either side, there was still room aplenty for Hanabi to suck the tip and bob her head. The Hyuuga grinned lewdly up at her lord and lover, her cheeks bright and splotchy, her lips stretching to and fro with the inexorable motions of her fellatio.

Hanabi wriggled her slim figure a little bit, as she sucked Konohamaru off, and she caressed both Ino and Sakura as they likewise drank in the taste of his cock, a musky and earthy flavor tinged with the faintly marine tang of pussy, salty with sweat and precum, and just a bit bracingly bitter. It was a dirty taste, a shameful and unsanitary savor, as undignified as eating something off the ground.

Naruko shivered, slapping her tits against Konohamaru's side, grinding her fat and meaty breasts up and down, rubbing her nipples on his skin and spooning his hip. She sandwiched his arm between her breasts and pinioned his leg between her thighs, grinding her pussy agains his body and seeping her moisture over his flesh. She was blushing and drooling, mewling slavishly and imploring him to use her.

The buxom blonde shook her ass, a goodly and meaty thing, and she fingered herself with one hand, flicking her clit as the back of her hand was pinned against Konohamaru's waist. She stroked and fondled her master's nearer buttock with the other hand, longingly squeezing and caressing his ass while glassy, nearly witless eyes stared at him.

Temari mirrored Naruko's actions, humping Konohamaru from the other side, grinding her tits and her plump, soaking pussy against his manly form. Her ass wagged in the air, and her mouth hung unashamedly open, a tongue lolling lewdly out as drool dripped and dribbled. She was sweaty and horny and moaning aloud, uncaring if anyone heard her, uncaring if anyone saw her, uncaring of anything but pleasing her master.

If she pleased him, he would please her. Even if he didn't, deeming her efforts too feeble to deserve reward, still she would be pleasured, thrilled and delighted to grind herself longingly against this magnificent body. Serving him was a delight in itself, and degrading herself far more exciting than any measure of praise or ennoblement. This was where she belonged. This was her rightful place.

They all knew what they really were. He had shown them. He had disabused them of all such illusory concepts as decency and fidelity. All that mattered was pleasure: the pleasure he gave them, and the pleasure they felt in submitting themselves to him.

It was liberating. No longer did they have to worry about deciding things for themselves, not when it came to sex. They were their master's playthings, and all they needed to know was what he wanted from them.

And this was easy to discern.

"You bitches are insatiable," grunted Konohamaru, looking around and grinning at his lovely, lustful mistresses. "How's an ordinary man supposed to satisfy all you needy cunts?"

They moaned and purred and batted their eyelashes, intensifying their ministrations and attentions.

"Can't," said one. It sounded like Sakura.

"Only you," whined Naruko breathlessly.

"Not ordinary, anyway," agreed Hanabi, winking at him and ducking her mouth further down unto his cock.

"Well, you're right about that!" Konohamaru laughed.

Grinning, he formed a seal that was quite familiar to all present. There was a series of soft pops, and bursts of smoke emanated in a ring around Konohamaru and his bitches. The smoke cleared, and there was clearly visible the naked forms of four Konohamaru.

Shadow clones.

His girls squealed eagerly, knowing what was about to come next.

Konohamaru never disappointed.

 

 

Karui Akimichi stepped away from the keyhole with a violent start, her face blazing and her eyes as wide as dinner plates. Her mouth hung dumbly open, and her entire posture told of absolute shock and disbelief. She looked at the door into which she had peeked, having heard distinct noises come from within and wondered, idly, what might be going on.

She very much wished, now, that she had obeyed her better judgement and left well enough alone. But how could she have guessed what she would see? She never would've expected to see a scene like this unfolding in the apartment!

Karui stared at the door, silently amazed. She thought of what she had seen within—five different women getting plowed by a single man in five bodies, women she recognized getting fucked by the shadow clones of her daughter's friend's jounin sensei—and wondered how the hell it had ever come to pass.

She was in a slight state of shock, and she stood stock still before the door, unable to really process what she was doing, or what she had just seen. Karui squirmed, and she felt goosebumps spread down her back. Her face was hot, and her throat was tight, and her heart was beating rapidly. She felt hot all over, in fact, burning hot from the mortification of what she had just seen.

Mortification, at least, was what she chose to call it in her mind, though other parts of her seemed to react more positively.

She was an easygoing woman, as a rule. Karui Akimichi wasn't too uptight, nor was she especially concerned with what others thought of her. She might've had a bit of a temper, but that was just one facet of her personality, and a rather small one in the grand scheme of things. Overall she tended to go with the flow, and she didn't let the little things knock her off her feet.

But this was simply too much. Karui couldn't process it, and she couldn't comprehend the reality of this situation. She couldn't remember what she was doing here, or where exactly she was, or how she had gotten to this point. All she could identify was what she had seen. She could identify this a little too well for her comfort. She was disconcerted, and that confusion and distress were not much reduced by the fact that she did not feel nearly as repulsed by what she saw as she ought have been.

She bit her lip, but she did not step any further from the door. She stared at the keyhole through which she had peeked in foolish curiousity, and she felt her heart continue to race. It was not so rapid a pulse as before, but the beats felt heavy, and they thundered in her ear. Blood rushed through her veins, and her body seemed in some way to... tighten. She felt somehow taut and constricted, stretched out and stiffened, and there was no lack of squirming heat in her belly.

Her bosom heaved. Her blouse felt terribly snug and constraining, and she quivered in her sandals. Her breath was hot and laborious, and her eyelids fluttered as they drooped low. Something inside of her was growing inappropriately excited. Some part of her person was pleased by this rumination on what she had seen, and her body seemed to betray her.

That looked... incredible.

Karui felt a stab of guilt at this thought, but she couldn't dismiss it. She couldn't get the idea out of her head. It had looked amazing. A part of her couldn't help but wonder how the hell a guy like Konohamaru—modestly handsome, sure, and not without a certain dorky charm, but far from her vision of a promiscuous casanova—could possibly seduce, let alone so apparently skillfully please five different women at once.

It entered into her mind that, perhaps, these women were merely shadow clones of Konohamaru's that he had transformed to resemble some of the highest queens of Konoha. It wasn't inconceivable, nor in any way wrong—not legally so, at least. Some might say it was wrong in a more general sense, that it was immoral and unbeneficial, and just overall creepy. Karui couldn't bring herself to affirm such a view. Nor did she think that these were merely henge'd clones.

No, there was a certain something about them that was undeniably indicative of the women in question. Something about the way the different women participated with Konohamaru, the differing subtleties in their reactions to his sex put it into Karui's mind that these weren't just playacting kage bunshin.

Karui gulping, slowly processing the implications of this. Half the women she had seen therein were by all accounts happily married (more than half, if you counted Sakura) and not the sorts of people whom Karui would have thought to indulge in such flagrant infidelity. Maybe if it was something that made them feel special, and pleased them after a long and slowly cooling marriage, but for this?

She couldn't imagine Ino or Sakura or Temari betraying their husbands solely to fornicate in such a degrading scenario, each of them merely one in a crowd of women, fucked unceremoniously by a man who seemed to take them more for granted than any of their husbands did. That was simply unbelievable.

Marginally easier to accept was the idea of Naruko and Hanabi doing this, because both were unwed, and Hanabi was generally accepted to be in a relationship with Konohamaru, while Naruko was generally believed to be in a relationship with Hanabi. It was imaginable that the two of them might indulge in something like this, just for a bit of fun.

But it was also still very strange.

Karui idly wondered, briefly, if she would find such a situation as fun as they seemed to. The silent response of 'No, of course not,' that echoed in her mind felt somehow hollow and insincere.

She gulped.

At last, with far more effort than it should have required, Karui managed to turn away and depart. Her heart was still racing, and the images she had seen were still branded into her mind's eye.

Unable to discard her somewhat maddened wonderings, Karui departed.

 

 

It wasn't that she didn't love her husband. She did. He was a good man, sweet and honest and softly spoken. Although the habituation of marriage could make all aspects of romance eventually somewhat dull and mundane, Chouji never failed to make an effort when it mattered. Even if he wasn't the brightest, nor the most charming, nor what some women would call the most handsome, Karui truly and deeply loved him.

He was a big guy, possessed of a not insignificant belly. While his arms were also easily among the thickest and most muscular in the village, his physical strength and capacity for kindness equally superlative, and his face hardly unhandsome, it would have been for many women a point of contention or disappointment that Chouji's stout musculature was laden over with a generous layer of fat. It was not what the average person deemed aesthetically pleasing.

Yet it was not a crippling or enfeebling obesity, whatever some might assume. Chouji was strong and hardy: not the swiftest or most agile, certainly, but his was a body made for raw physical strength. And Karui respected that. She admired his power, and she loved him for what a great sweetheart he was. She wasn't a very shallow person, or someone to make assumptions based on imperfect understandings of health and anatomy. Chouji wasn't sickly or feeble, even if he was inclined to tire a little sooner than some thinner men.

She did not find her husband unattractive, either. She loved him in every regard, both physically and spiritually, and he felt likewise towards her. Some people, particularly those who were younger and more shallow, might have been put off by the width of Chouji's belt, or by the outward softness of his body, but Karui found him perfectly attractive, and an entirely able and generous lover.

Indeed, Chouji's naturally kind and thoughtful disposition made him, in some ways, a better lover than many more conventionally handsome men. He was considerate in bed, and he was very much adoring of his wife, and he never failed to make her feel loved and beautiful. He was a good lover, giving as much attention to her needs as to his own. Moreover, he was of a very domestic inclination, despite his shinobi career: for example, he enjoyed cooking and was quite good at it.

So he wasn't lazy, he wasn't incapable, he wasn't selfish, and he wasn't unattractive to his wife. If there was any shortcoming about Chouji, therefore, it was that he was too sweet, and just a little too tender in bed. Rough sex wasn't his forte, and he was always a little delicate with his wife. It never felt condescending, the way he softly handled and fondled her when they had sex, but Karui did sometimes wish that he was a little more forceful, a little more aggressive.

She wasn't a meek person, and she wasn't exactly mild mannered, whatever her easygoing temperament. She liked a bit of excitement in her life, and while Chouji was in most other ways an exemplary husband, he was just a bit bland, and just a little, well... Karui loved him too much to call him boring. But being nice and considerate didn't necessarily make you a dazzling conversationalist, or always the best in bed.

He was sometimes just a little too dull, and just a bit too unadventurous. For most of their marriage this hadn't been a problem. Karui might have idly wished, once or twice, that he was a bit more of this or that, but until recently she had been content and able to enjoy what they had well enough to call herself happy. Even now, she wasn't un-happy.

But she was restless. She felt a certain, slight discontentment that grew a little bit more with every passing day. It wasn't terrible, nor the end of the world, but it was enough to give her pause now and then. It was enough to make her fantasize.

And those fantasies were becoming the bane of her fidelity.

Karui bade her husband farewell as she left the house. He was off duty for this week, and half of it so far they had spent together. But now Karui had a mission assignment for herself, and she had to leave the village for a couple days. When they were younger, she and Chouji might have somewhat resented the need to be separated so often for their work, but at their current age they were sobered.

She could appreciate what time they were able to spend together, rather than lament the time they couldn't. She was, after all, fairly optimistic. Chouji was a little sad to see her go, but he knew that they each had their respective duties as shinobi, and marriage did not excuse them from the obligations of career, however much they might have wished otherwise. They were adults, after all, and not just dumb, lovestruck teenagers.

Karui had a mission: a joint mission, as it turned out. This was not unusual. As a Lightning native and Kumogakure soldier, it wasn't as if Karui could simply work for Konoha. That wasn't how things went, even in this day and age. Most of Karui's missions over the past decade-and-a-half had functioned as joint operations between the Leaf and Cloud. So this was perfectly normal.

Still, she found it slightly more disconcerting to learn that she would be doing this mission alongside Konohamaru Sarutobi. More yet to find it was just the two of them. It distressed her most of all that a small and guilty corner of her soul was so pleased by this fact. It made her feel somehow dirty.

The mission itself was nothing to write home about. It was a B-rank on paper, but in execution the difficulty proved closer to a mid level C-rank. Such a job could barely have challenged her daughter, even if the girl'd had to do it solo, and Karui had a very capable teammate with her, too.

Because Konohamaru was very good. She could see why some called him a favorite pick for the next hokage. There were at least handful of ninja in the village that were stronger than him, sure, in some areas: her husband was one such person, excelling in close combat and high power taijutsu. But only one or two could claim to be good in as many areas as Konohamaru, and of those one was already Lord Seventh Hokage, while the other was unlikely to be completely accepted as a leader, however much he had done in the village's service over the last nigh twenty years.

But Karui was not on a mission with Sasuke or Naruto. Rather, as said before, her assignment was with Konohamaru Sarutobi. He genuinely impressed her with his skill, though. Not just in battle. He communicated very well with the clients, and he proved a compelling negotiator in adjusting the finer details of their contract, and he was charming. Devilishly so.

Almost could Karui now see why a such a group of women as she had seen might at least condescend to indulge this person's desires. He was funny and witty, quick of tongue and keenly clever. Even apart from his strength and his handsomeness, he had a very engaging personality, lively and amusing and just a bit masterful.

He was perilous for an androsexual to be around, especially if that person was bored or lonely. He could charm the pants off of anyone—hell, Karui was fairly certain she'd overheard him fucking the client's wife, one night. She hadn't the faintest idea how he could have managed that in the short acquaintance he'd had with the woman, but she recognized those grunts as his, recalling them from...

...well, from the moment that had started all this trouble, for her: the moment she'd first discovered how impossibly seductive this man could be. And indeed, the more she observed him, the more grateful Karui felt that he had not yet turned his attentions hither. It seemed almost a supernatural power, yet she could tell that it was just pure charisma, if anything. She was reminded of something she'd once heard said about the Nanadaime.

It was a power of personality, a power of soul that drew all nearby hearts close to itself, bending all adjacent wills to its own purpose and desire. Put that way, it sounded vaguely insidious, yet the feel of it was wholesome and natural. Karui had felt it from the Nanadaime, and she had seen its proof in the man's friendship with her master—the master for whose abduction and assumed death she had, in absence of the perpetrator and frustration at the man's refusal to help, beaten him to a pulp.

There was probably some kind of irony at work there.

But Karui knew the feel of this influence, and she felt something similar from Konohamaru. It was not a power in the way of bloodline limits or secret ninjutsu; it was not an arcane technique made possible through the esoteric manipulations of yin and yang within oneself. It was something more essential, something that would exist even were they in a world without chakra, without ninjutsu and genjutsu and all other shinobi arts.

It was a human quality, natural and innate. It was a matter of personality, really, just a simple animal magnetism. Yet the simplicity of it made it all the more potent. It was something so basic and fundamental that it was not guarded against by heart or mind: one could not dodge it, or deflect it, or counter it. Not in any conventional sense, at least.

And it was this undefinable quality, this nebulous character, that really made Konohamaru so dangerously seductive. He didn't need to impress her with his strength, though he did, or arouse her with his looks, though he did. All he had to do, seemingly, was stand there and be himself, just exist in her general presence, and she would eventually fall to his influence.

It was a terrible power, and yet she did not for a moment despise it. Not once it had taken hold. By the end of their mission, after a few days alone in the field together, Karui was sorely in want of him. Almost she had forgotten her husband and her marriage and her daughter. She was aroused by Konohamaru, and she was enticed by him, and seduced by him, and she wasn't even sure if he'd been consciously TRYING to entice her.

(He had, for the record—just not in any ways that Karui would have noticed.)

Still, with all of this said, it should be fairly clear why she succumbed. The graphic details of her slow, inexorable decline into infidelity scarcely needed recounting. Whether she knew it or not, from the moment Karui first saw him with all those other women, her fate had been sealed. Saying she ought to have been able to refuse him would have been like saying that dry brush ought to have been able to ward off the raging wildfire. Konohamaru had already grown too great in charm for any ordinary woman to resist, too subtle in his seductive prowess to be noticed or countered until it was already too late.

Karui could thus, perhaps, be pardoned for her lapse in judgement. At least, a person aware of others and open to sympathy would forgive her, maybe, a kindly soul and gentle, one who was naturally empathetic. But this did not describe Konohamaru. Not when it came, as some might say, to bitches and whores.

 

 

Karui moaned, smacking her lips and shaking her ass. Slavishly she kissed Konohamaru's chest, tasting the sweat that beaded down his lithe physique. Her mouth opened wide as she pressed her lips around one of his nipples, and her tongue curled hungrily about the nub. Her keen and golden eyes peered up at him, and her expression seemed immeasurably lewd.

Stars twinkled through the forest canopy, shade enveloping their bodies. Both blended equally well into the gloom, and both were equally obscene in the sounds they made. Konohamaru bucked his hips, and he ran his fingers through Karui's short, scarlet hair. More than once he'd heard it postulated that this woman had some trace of Uzumaki descent, to have locks of such deeply sanguine hue, but personally he thought her hair was more auburn than red.

But then, he didn't care if she was the stepdaughter of freaking Kaguya. All that mattered was that Karui was a nice and attractive bitch with a good ass, juicy cunt, and some modest, perky tits. Konohamaru didn't see color. Her hair could have been red, blue, green, or anything else in the spectrum, and it wouldn't have changed a goddamn thing about how he treated her.

The bark of a rather impressive tree rubbed against Konohamaru's back. It was a little rough, but not notably uncomfortable, and he nestled his ass in the crook between two of its great, gnarled roots. He continued to stroke Karui's hair as he fucked her, and he appreciatively squeezed her ass. She moaned into his chest, and she held him longingly, tensing and slacking along with the rhythm of his incomparable cock.

"Yes, yes, ohhh...!" she moaned, panting and slavishly kissing his chest. "Shit, no... why am I getting off on this? Ghk... don't think this means anything. I'm still married."

Konohamaru chuckled at Karui's words, and he felt pleased to hear a mingling of shame and delight in her tone. He loved to hear a bitch get guilty when he fucked her; it made the conquest all the more satisfying. He leered down at Karui, watching her round ass bob with the pumping of his dick, driving back and forth in time with the mighty thrusts of his manhood.

"Keep telling yourself that, if you want," he told her. "But you're just doing what's natural for bitches to do. You love my cock, don't you? You want it, right?"

He pistoned his hips more powerfully, driving up into Karui with particularly great force.

"Augh!" she cried out, her head rolling back and her eyes squeezing shut. She arched her back and hissed pathetically, her cunt tensing and kneading Konohamaru's dick. "Damn... shit, I don't... I don't really want to... ngh❤"

Karui's pleasure bled through into her voice, a crack and a squeal, betraying how she really felt. She was still tough, though, and proud. Most women would break once Konohamaru had gotten inside of them, but Karui...? She had a grit and fire that couldn't be readily excelled or extinguished. She was firm and resilient. Most of all, she was loyal. But they'd come this far, already. The moment she spread her legs, it was only a matter of time. Everything after that was simply the woman buying time to salve her own vain and foolish pride.

Konohamaru rocked his hips, and he felt the silken folds of Karui's cunt sliding over his shaft, rubbing it as her pussy squeezed around him, betraying her body's desire with the tension of her sex. Karui looked up at him with a marvelous expression, biting her lip and casting her eyes guiltily yet unrelentingly over his naked form. She drank in the sight of his body, and she very obviously liked everything she saw, from his handsome face to his heaving chest to his chiseled abs.

If his cock wasn't busy inside her, she probably would have stared at that the longest.

Her glittering eyes were filled with shame, and he could see the hint of a blush in her cheeks. Her breasts bobbed with the motion of her body, which rocked from the thumping of his cock, and she made a look of clearest enjoyment every time he thrust into her, even if that very enjoyment filled her with ever more shame. She was still fighting, on some level, yet she had also given in on so many others.

Karui licked her lips, and she stared hungrily at his chest, unable to wholly restrain her own desire or to smother her memories of the taste. She wanted it, and she wanted to give in once more, as she had given in so many other times since the start of their copulation, yet every now and then this stubborn fit came on her and restored some sense of fidelity. It wasn't enough to make her stop altogether, but it prolonged the taming and forestalled her submission.

This was an interesting one. She wasn't as notable to Konohamaru as some of the others he'd conquered, at least not in terms of his acquaintance or awareness. He didn't know much about this woman or her background. She was a relative stranger to him. Her looks were exotic, but while this helped her to stand out, it did not make her especially more beautiful: Konohamaru liked what he saw of her, but it wasn't like this was the hottest bitch he'd ever fucked.

Yet she was yielding to him only slowly, breaking down only a small crack at a time, and, frequently, when she seemed finally about to snap, she would spring back with an almost renewed... not defiance, no, it was too late to call it that. She had consented to this, after all—she had even been the one to initiate it—so she was clearly willing to fuck him. She'd succumbed very quickly in that regard. Where she really resisted was where most of the other girls had swiftly crumbled: she was refusing the urge to submit herself in the bliss of sex, to call him her master and make herself his love-slave.

Konohamaru was amused by this. It was a novel experience, and not displeasing. There was actually something a little contrarily kinky about fucking a woman who wasn't immediately breaking down and bowing to him. It didn't hurt that Karui was perfectly attractive in her own right, very good-looking even if she wasn't the sexiest woman he'd fucked. And he fucked her, alright. He fucked her long, and he fucked her hard.

Eventually Karui turned in his lap, panting and pulling off of Konohamaru's cock. She came in a spurt, and her moisture glistened wherever it fell. She trembled in the aftershock of orgasm, moaning feebly and shivering, and though she got off of him she did not do more than crawl a couple inches from the tree before stopping and peering curiously at him over her shoulder—part hopeful, part anxious, part guilty, part greedy.

Konohamaru's dick was still rigidly erect. His come was visible on Karui's belly, and on her thighs. None dripped from her pussy, though. Not yet. He wouldn't give her that until she swallowed her pride and begged for it. It didn't seem like this was too far off, mind, judging by her moist cunt and dewy eyes.

He smiled at the woman's ass, brown and perky and pleasantly shaped. It seemed one of the better asses he'd seen, very good in all regards, if not quite the equal of Sakura or Hanabi. He felt a desire to reach out and give that ass a good, hard slap. He wanted to smack it and make its owner start and squeal. He wondered what kind of sound Karui would make if he pinned her to the ground and started spanking her.

His dick throbbed, and he grinned at Karui's backside.

"You're a temptress," he told the woman. "You don't have anyone but yourself to blame for this. It's your fault you're in this situation, and it's your fault I'm fucking you. It's not like that's a bad thing, though. You don't dislike it, do you?"

Karui shivered, but she did not give an answer. Neither did she try to stand or move away. She simply stayed on all fours, her nethers pointing in his direction.

Konohamaru rose, his dick still fully erect.

"Don't resist," he told her. "It's pointless. Stubborness won't get you anything but a sore ass. You already know what you want."

Still, Karui did not answer. She quivered, but she did not speak.

Konohamaru grabbed Karui's hips, and he got down on his knees. His erection sandwiched itself nicely between the woman's firm, brown buttocks, and the warmth of her ass made his dick throb powerfully. He felt her skin rub against his, and he felt her pulse quicken at his touch. She tensed and shuddered but did not try to push him off.

She anticipated what was coming, but she did not dread it.

"You're a bitch," Konohamaru said. "Don't try to pretend like you aren't. Don't tell me you aren't a slut. You're the one who asked for this, aren't you? You don't regret this. Don't act like you do."

"What do you know?" she said at last, her voice cracking, tremulous with a myriad of restrained emotions. "Of course I regret this. I'm married."

"So what? Does that mean you can't enjoy yourself?"

"It means I shouldn't disregard my husband," Karui said, her tone more resolved. There was still a faintest tremor of doubt, however. "I shouldn't have done this. It was a mistake."

She started to rise, but Konohamaru held her hips tight, and he pressed himself close to her. His cockhead prodded the rim of her anus, and Karui gave a hiss. She tensed immediately and ceased trying to stand, and a powerful shudder convulsed her body.

"What do you think you're doing?" Konohamaru said. "I'm not done with you."

"H-Hey!" Karui said, sounding both peeved and nervous. "Stop that! I don't want to do this anymore."

"Don't lie," he told her. "Just relax and tell the truth. Don't worry about your husband. Marriage doesn't matter. Accept your true nature."

"Wh-What are you talking about, you—?" Karui began to say, her tone indignant. But then she was cut off, and all that came out after was a moan and an incoherent cry.

Konohamaru bucked his hips, and he plunged inside Karui's anus. It was a tight fit, but he slicked his cock with a film of chakra like the inverse of a tree climbing exercise, reducing the friction more effectively than any lubricant could have. He thrust into Karui's ass, uncaring of her pride or her insisted refusal, seeing only a bitch with a nice body in need of a good fucking.

He had his own pride, and his own notion of propriety. It was against the norms and values of society, perhaps, yet he was only what the women around him had made of him. Hanabi, and Sakura, and Ino, and Naruko, and Temari—with each conquest he grew bolder and more rapacious, harder and fiercer in his desires.

If he was a monster, then he was only the monster they'd wanted him to become. Or so he'd tell you, if asked. It wasn't much longer before Karui would wholeheartedly agree. In a way, she was already his bitch.

He was fucking her, after all, wasn't he?

 

A/N: It's been a bit of a while since the last update, but here's another installment of Konohamaru's crazy cuckold quest. And with Karui done, now all that's left are side-waifus. Well, apart from Hinata—but I feel like she'd be the final boss of his whole Konoha adventure. Of course, I might also include lasses from the younger generation: teen!Sarada, at least, is pretty high up on the list of potentials. Maybe Mirai, too, for a bit of more incestuous fun. As well, I've already established that this isn't quite canon, with Naruko's inclusion, so maybe I'd go whole hog and have some gracefully-aged GMILFS like Mikoto and Kushina. The latter, at least, is nearly as much a staple of Naruto harems these days as Sakura or Hinata. 

I'm not sure about him getting ladies outside of Konoha. Partly because the recognizable, canonical members of that group are rather sparse in comparison to the lovely ladies of the Leaf. There would only be a few, maybe, to be really worth the time, like Samui or Kurotsuchi. But then, this is a commissioned fic, so I suppose the commissioner has the final say, if they want it.

But that's enough rambling from me. 

Updated: 12-30-16

TTFN and R&R!

– — ❤

P.S.: Either my laptop's internet is just being shit, or the rich text entry field here on AO3 does NOT want to appear. Whichever way lies the problem, it does exacerbate my annoyance that the default option is HTML entry. Like, does ANYBODY actually use the HTML? Or am I the odd one out for finding that inconvenient?


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